


Until I Met You (America x Chubby!Reader x Yandere!2P!America)

by ronnie_99



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2P!America - Freeform, America, Angst, Bullied!Reader, Chubby, F/M, Fluff, Heathers - Freeform, High School AU, Highschool AU, Lime, Love Triangle, Yandere, chubby!reader, yandere!2P!America - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-16 09:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 26,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13050879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronnie_99/pseuds/ronnie_99
Summary: Alfred F. Jones has the looks, the smarts and the popularity to back up his title as Blackwell's perfect All American Boy. However, one fatal mistake at a party leads to a stranger finding out his biggest secret. (Inspired by Heathers and Wuthering Heights)





	1. All American Boy

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING
> 
> The following story contains mild smut, issues concerning mental illness, underage drinking and the mentions of abuse.
> 
> Also, it was inspired by HEATHERS and Wuthering Heights.
> 
>  
> 
> DISCLAIMER
> 
> Hetalia and all of its characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.
> 
> I don't like using canon characters as close friends of the MC/Reader, so expect some OCs to appear. Any similarities with the OCs and people in real life are purely coincidental.

Alfred F. Jones. What the F stood for was anyone's guess. It could've stood for Franklin or fucker, nobody would've cared. It wasn't the name that made him special.

Alfred walked down the hallway. He passed by a couple of guys from the team whom he greeted with his signature bro-hugs before going to his locker where he dumped the returned papers—all marked with perfect scores in bright red ink.

With a record only blemished by a few B's and as the captain of his high school's football team, Alfred F. Jones was the perfect student, but best of all (or worst of all, depending on who's looking at him) he was the perfect "ideal" American teenager.

He entered the cafeteria, winking at two freshmen, a boy who obviously wore makeup and a girl who looked like a young Ingrid Bergman. Both flashed him their best smiles before turning their backs to giggle.

Bright eyes and all smiles, he was every girl's dream and every guy's rival. That's what he was supposed to be, what everyone wanted him to be, so that was the kind of person he pretended to be. Every day.

Alfred thanked the lunch lady for the meal: an apple, a PB and J sandwich and a carton of milk, and then went to his usual spot. It was no crime to assume that his spot was with the other elites of the school, like the school government president or his teammates, but Alfred didn't really have a clique. He was friendly and he had good friends, but he never really connected with people in a more intimate level outside of sports or school. He usually ate alone outside under the principal's beloved willow tree.

That tree was perfect, it provided him shade and it was far enough from the school building for him to have some peace and quiet, even if just for a moment.

He sat down and began eating. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

 _A moment's peace_ , he thought to himself. Lunch time had its ups and downs. Its ups included the tree and the time he had away from stress, they were limited but he treasured them. The downs, on the other hand...

Alfred returned the tray to the cafeteria. He waved goodbye to the vice president whose lunch break just started.

Alfred silently walked. He didn't need attention on him now.

The big man on campus hid one very, very important part of him from the public's eye.

A secret he didn't need anyone to find out about. Alfred F. Jones, academic athlete and the All-American pride of Blackwater Academy, was bulimic.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Bulimia AKA bulimia nervosa is a type of eating disorder by which a person has a low self-esteem and the compulsive need to lose weight (by throwing up their food, abstaining from eating eating or drinking, exercising excessively, etc.)


	2. Found You

It was a Sunday, not just any Sunday though. It was Super Bowl Sunday, which meant that the majority of Blackwell's student body were at the Prescotts, to watch the game or grab as much free food as they could, or both.

As usual, Alfred arrived late. Almost everyone gathered around his red pickup truck when it rolled down in the front yard. He got out, the girls practically drooling at his plaid shirt and dark jeans.

Ethan Prescott tumbled out the house, "Dude! So glad you could make it"

"You know I wouldn't miss this for the world." Alfred replied, giving him a brofist "How's the game?"

Ethan snaked an arm around Alfred's neck, "Come on in and find out for yourself. The ladies and the TV have been waiting"

"Have you been drinking?" It was a stupid question, Alfred knew, but he still couldn't believe how a eighteen-year-old could drink more beer than his own dad.

His parents were all right; a sip or two was okay so long as he knew when to stop, but drugs were a no-no. Not that Alfred ever tried or was ever interested. He already had enough problems to deal with.

He pinched his nose and shoved Ethan's face away, "Let's just go inside before you pass out."

On their way inside, Ethan lost balance and pulled on Alfred's jacket.

"Dammit, Ethan!" He reached out to something for support, but instead caught hold of someone.

A girl, nobody he knows personally but most likely someone from school, hissed when he and Ethan dragged her down by accident. To add insult to injury, they landed _on_ her.

Alfred was quick to get up and remove his classmate off the girl.

"Hey, whaddaya know, I don't feel a thing. Oh!" Ethan waved his red cup at their victim, "Good thing you're a big girl, eh?"

He wasn't wrong. Alfred wasn't going to lie; with her full thighs obvious in those skinny jeans and a gut bulging out her t-shirt, the girl definitely weighed on the heavier side of the scale. She almost reminded him of his mom, though his mother wasn't shy of her figure and always dressed to the nines; even when at home she wore makeup and wore a silk robe.

Alfred clenched his fist and delivered a smack on Ethan's head. His mom also told him to always stand up to bullies, even if he wasn't the target.

"Hey, what the fuck, man?" Ethan rubbed the sore area on his skull.

Alfred ignored him and held out his arm to the girl, already opening his mouth to apologize. However, as she reached for his open hand, the entire house shook in uproar.

_"Oh my God, did you see that? His spine has to be broken!"_

_"What? No way!"_

A player from their team had collapsed onto the ground and was now being rolled away from the field on a gurney.

"Alfred, come on, we gotta see this!" Ethan, apparently now sober, left his cup on the ground and then grabbed Alfred's collar.

Alfred didn't have time to protest or even say goodbye as a blonde had already dashed to the girl's side and practically dragged her to the opposite direction.

 

Several hours have already passed but Alfred still couldn't shake the guilt off his chest, nor had he encountered the girl for a second time.

Alfred downed the rest of his soda in one big gulp before letting out a bigger burp, much to the displeasure of a guy sitting next to him.

Guilt equates to stress, and Alfred didn't do well against stress.

While he hasn't even tasted the beer or ale or gin his friends desperately fought each other for, Alfred had consumed three hot dogs, three hamburgers, two big bags of potato chips and one large soda. He was a guy so nobody noticed when he ate so much.

However, _he_ knew, and now the contents of his stomach were boiling. He had to go.

Tori, an aspiring photographer and one of his many fangirls, asked if everything was okay when he suddenly got off his seat.

"Yeah, I just need to go use the bathroom real quick." He reassured her with a smile, which was reciprocated with a blush.

Alfred ran off, knowing the house's layout like it was his own place because of the countless parties he's been invited to there. And he of all the rooms, he's probably most acquainted with the bathroom on the second floor.

A lot of the students were too lazy to walk upstairs and preferred the washrooms in the garage and near the kitchen, so Alfred didn't have to worry about anybody walking in on him.

Unfortunately, this time, it was closed. He rattled the door knob for the third time. Definitely locked.

He then heard moaning, followed by a woman shouting Jesus' name.

Alfred threw both hands in the air, "Okay, occupied. Got it."

He jogged outside. He couldn't use the first floor toilets (neither had working locks), and a couple were busy in the second floor rest room, so he had to take a third option.

He went to the Prescotts' miniature garden out back. It wasn't anything extraordinary, just some vegetables and flowers Mr. Prescott grew himself, but it was flat and dull and prone to attracting insects so it dissuaded most teenagers from coming close.

Alfred stopped behind a growing apple tree. He took two fingers and shoved it down his throat. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as the acid stirred inside him.

He bent over, pulling out his fingers just in time before his dinner poured out his mouth.

Alfred heaved and coughed, forcing it all out his stomach.

"Dammit" He wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

He checked the time—already a quarter past ten. _Uh, oh_. He promised his parents that he'd be home before 11. His dad wouldn't mind if he arrived a few minutes late; his mom, on the other hand, would flip.

Alfred fixed his hair and collar. He spun on his foot, but much to his surprise, someone was there with him.

It was the girl.

 _Shit_.

"There you are" A blonde boy walked towards us. Alfred was worried for a second that he might start asking questions, but it was like the newcomer didn't even see him. His attention was on the girl alone, "I found Arin. Wait 'til grandmother sees her drunk ass now."

The girl nodded and followed her friend back inside the house, she didn't even turn her head back to glance at Alfred.

Once they were gone, Alfred dashed back inside his truck.

If she knew why he was throwing up, then that was the first time that he's ever been caught.


	3. The Job

Alfred didn't sleep well last night. In fact he wasn't sure if he did catch a wink of sleep at all, considering he remained awake until four in the morning and the next thing he knew his Superman digital clock was ringing at 5:30. He didn't sip a drop of the Prescotts' beer and whiskey, but he felt like crap when he went downstairs.

As he made his way to the dining room-slash-kitchen, he bent down to rub the back of Popcorn's ear. Popcorn was their loyal Golden Retriever of nine years. He wasn't as active as he used to be, but they loved him all the same.

"Morning, honey. Take a seat, I made your favorite." His mom, without even turning away from the fridge, pointed at his plate of bacon and eggs.

"Morning, mom. Dad." Alfred greeted.

His father put down his coffee mug, "Hey, slugger"

"What did I say about using that pet name?" Mrs. Jones swung her hips, closing the fridge door, before bringing the orange juice to the table.

"I didn't hear you come in last night, how was the party?"

"You didn't hear him because you fell asleep on the couch after three cans of beer. He came home late, at 11:30, and he smelled like you."

"Hey!" Father and son turned to her at the same time.

Lorelei rolled her eyes, "Whatever, just finish up your eggs, both of you. Steve, I'll drive you to the shop on my way to work."

"Yes, ma'am."

*****

Ethan reeked of alcohol, and Alfred wondered if he even bothered to take a shower last night or this morning.

"You look like shit, man" Ethan was referring to the dark circles around Alfred's eyes.

"Yeah, well, you smell like it" He retorted.

Ethan yawned and leaned on his chair.

As the rest of their classmates filed in, Alfred rubbed the back of his nape as he thought deeply. He then called, "Ethan"

Ethan merely groaned in response.

"Do you. . ." He wanted to ask for a guest list, but then laughed at his own idea. As long as you weren't the cops or a burglar, you were free to enter the Prescott estate when Ethan's left responsible.

"Never mind."

Ethan shrugged, but quickly sat up when the teacher stepped in.

Alfred couldn't focus on today's lecture, his mind was on a completely different topic. He wondered if the girl from before would blackmail him, or just out him as revenge (which he could understand considering Ethan essentially called her fat), but that seems like a horrible thing to do regardless.

"What?" Alfred shot his eyes up to meet Miss Montgomery's. The entire classroom erupted with giggles and chuckles.

"You look distracted, Mr. Jones. Is everything all right?" Alfred liked his English teacher, he respected her greatly; she was nice to everyone and clearly loved what she did. Moreover, she never went out of her way to humiliate any of her students.

"I'm fine, Miss Montgomery, just. . .tired."

"I was expecting to hear the word 'hung-over', but all right. How was the game yesterday?"

"You didn't watch it, Miss?" Tori answered instead.

She shrugged, "Call me a hippie but I hate football"

Ethan booed and she laughed along before resuming her lecture.

First period ended with a new reading assignment. "Don't forget to pick up your copy of Carmilla from the library. I know it's not part of the syllabus but I still want you all to read it; I assure you it makes more sense than a hundred-year-old vampire still attending high school."

The class left the room laughing, all except for one.

"You wanted to speak with me?" Alfred walked to her desk.

Miss Montgomery nodded and gestured for him to sit down.

Alfred remained standing.

"I wanted to talk to you about your reaction paper on Frankenstein..." She pulled out a binder from her drawer, "You got a B."

He didn't know how to reply.

"Um. . . no offense, Miss Montgomery, I mean I love your class and all. . .but I'm not one of those overachievers who freak out when they don't get an A"

She chuckled, "Oh, no. It's just that you're one of the students who keep a consistent record"

"Of no failures?"

"Yes, exactly, and well, I have this one student who's been having trouble with her English lit. I was wondering if you're interested in tutoring her? Her family is willing to pay and we'll find a way to have you work around your schedule."

Alfred stopped for a moment to think. On one hand, he was already exhausted from practice and getting the kind of grades he did required extra effort; on the other hand, his mom's car needed a new paint job and the ceiling in the bathroom has been leaking again, not to mention they needed a new toaster.

"What do you say, Alfred?"

He gave her one of those dazzling smiles, "I'll do it."

 

After practice and before changing out of his towel, Alfred took a moment to send his mom a message saying he finally found a part-time job.

Her reply came quick for someone who hated cellphones.

 **Mom:** Great! What kind of job is it?

 **Me:** A tutoring job. I'll give u the details once I get home.

 **Mom:** OK but when do u start?

Alfred sighed and texted: Tonight.

Miss Montgomery asked him if he was sure, as he could just tutor the girl every Saturday, before the usual training. Even she probably thought that was too much since football practice during the week usually ended around seven PM.

Alfred thought about it, he really did.

The girl's family was willing to pay him 30 dollars for each session.

It was a no-brainer.

Alfred followed the directions Miss Montgomery gave him and eventually reached his destination within forty minutes. Even from a distance, like something straight out of a Jane Austen novel, the estate screamed of old money, looking very much different from the modern Americana houses in he has seen before.

He sat in his father's worn-down red truck and asked himself what he was doing in a place that was so out of his league.

An old woman wearing a blue, ankle-length dress walked out the front door of the house and then toward the truck.

Alfred rolled down his window.

"Good evening, ma'am" He handed her a folder with his ID, "I'm Alfred Jones, I'm the new tutor. Miss Montgomery sent me"

"Oh, yes, of course. Please, come inside"

Alfred was instructed to wait in the living room, where a man in a suit approached him and asked, "Tea or coffee, sir?"

"I'm good. Thanks." He replied awkwardly.

The butler, Alfred assumed that was what he was, gave a curt nod and turned away, disappearing into a hallway.

Left to himself once again, Alfred looked around. The living room was cream white and muted blues with a hardwood floor, illuminated by a crystal chandelier. There was no TV, but there was a fireplace, and numerous paintings and vases of roses.

"Good evening, young man" A sharp feminine voice had Alfred up and on his feet. A woman with greying dirty blonde hair tied neatly in a bun and wrinkles around her eyes strolled down the stairs, the maid from before trailing behind her.

"Good evening, ma'am" He bowed his head respectfully.

"I appreciate you coming here. I've been informed that you have quite the busy schedule"

"It's no trouble, ma'am."

The woman lifted her chin. She was a foot shorter than Alfred but managed to scare him nonetheless.

She hummed softly and kept examining him.

Before Alfred could begin regretting his decision to wear a simple t-shirt and jeans, the woman's face broke into a small smile, "I'm Jennifer, by the way, but you can call me Mrs. Rosewater. I'll introduce you to my granddaughter once. . ." She stopped mid-sentence and looked to his side.

"Twins, so nice of you to join us."

Alfred's stomach made knots with itself.

The twins were two blue-eyed blondes: A girl who he has never met before but greatly resembled the boy who stood just a few centimeters taller than her. The boy who almost caught him throwing up.

"Alfred, these are my grandchildren, Arin and Allen. Twins, this is Alfred Jones, he will be Arin's English tutor starting today."

"Jones? I've heard of you, captain of the football team, right? I didn't know you guys even knew how to read." Alfred didn't know if she was joking or purposely trying to get on his nerves.

"Please don't take it personally" Allen said, and Alfred felt relieved as he didn't seem to remember their previous encounter. "It's her defense mechanism to insult others so she can feel better about herself."

Arin was about to retort when Mrs. Rosewater interjected.

"Behave yourselves." She ordered and the twins shut up instantly.

"Arin, Alfred will be tutoring you in English lit, considering how you've scared off your previous tutors. Your grades depend on him, so be nice. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, grandmother." Arin said, eyes lowered down on her sneakers.

"Good. Muriel," Mrs. Rosewater turned to the elderly maid, "Please escort them to Arin's bedroom so they can start."

 

The problem wasn't that Arin was exceptionally stupid, Alfred had noted, it was because she simply _refused_ to pay attention. And she kept asking the most ridiculous questions.

"I'm confused. How the Hell did that doctor bring Frankenstein to life in the first place anyway? Shouldn't _that_ be what people are studying about?"

Alfred resisted the urge to snap the mechanical pencil she lent him in half as he continued to explain, "First of all, the doctor _is_ Frankenstein, his full name is Victor Frankenstein, and secondly—"

"So the monster isn't called Frankenstein?"

"No, it isn't"

"Then what's it called?"

"It's called 'Frankenstein's monster'"

"Doesn't he have a name? Like Victor Junior or something?"

"No, he doesn't."

"Why not?"

Alfred tried not to groan as he turned to the orange-shaped clock on Arin's desk. It was only 8:15. They've been there for less than thirty minutes and Alfred already wanted to just jump out the window, dash back into his truck and leave without ever returning.

Before he could tell Arin that it didn't matter that the monster had no name, there was a knock on the door.

Muriel peered in, "It's time for supper. You're invited as well, Mr. Jones"

"Finally, food!" Arin almost knocked down her chair when she stood up.

Alfred sighed and placed a bookmark between the pages where they left off.

Frankly, Alfred was expecting a grand feast with the twins' parents and grandparents and maybe some other relatives who've been living with them, but instead there was only Mrs. Rosewater, the twins, and him seated around the table.

"Where is she?" Arin asked the butler; Geoffrey, was what they called him.

Alfred blinked and wondered who this 'she' was. The family pet perhaps?

"I'm afraid she's still feeling ill" He replied.

"Still? It's been three days, shouldn't we take her to the hospital?"

"I had the family physician over yesterday to check up on her. Doctor said it's the flu, prescribed her a medicine and some rest" Mrs. Rosewater reassured her.

Allen turned to Alfred to explain, "We're talking about our friend, [Name]. She's living with us for the time being."

Mrs. Rosewater then added, "Don't worry, Alfred. She's a lot nicer than Arin."

Arin blew a raspberry and Mrs. Rosewater rolled her eyes.

Alfred felt grateful that they were including him in the conversation.

"Does she go to Blackwell, too?"

Arin nodded, "Yup, she and Allen share the same homeroom"

"What do you mean when you said she's living with you for the time being?"

Just like that the air was sucked away from the room, everyone had grown quiet.

Geoffrey cleared his throat as Muriel and another maid came in with the food. "Dinner is served"

Again, rather than the full course dinner with appetizers and a giant chicken that Alfred had always imagined rich people ate, the meal was simple enough. (Though still better than what he usually consumed.)

They had steak with roasted tomatoes and scallions, and then cinnamon babka for dessert. It was a shame that Alfred's share would be flushed down the toilet.

"Can I be excused to the bathroom?" Alfred asked politely once he was done.

"It's certainly better than having Muriel clean up bodily fluids in the kitchen." Mrs. Rosewater picked up her teacup, "Geoffrey, please take him to the nearest toilet."

She wasn't as stuck up as she looked. Not all the time.

"I need to go help clean up. Will you be fine on your own, sir?"

"I think I can handle it."

"Very well then, sir" Geoffrey spun around, "Try not to get lost on your way back."

Alfred rolled his eyes.

Before he could shut the door, he noticed that someone was leaning on the wall.

He looked up to find the girl from the party. She wore a pink robe over her pyjamas and her hair in two loose braids. It didn't take much for him to put two and two together and soon realized that she was the friend who'd been living with the Rosewaters.

She crossed her arms, "Are you gonna throw up again?"

Alfred thought about asking her what she meant but figured playing clueless might provoke her, and resorted to confronting her head on.

He copied her stance, playing brave.

"[Name], right?"

She nodded.

"What do you want?"

Her eyes widened and her arms fell to her sides, "Excuse me?"

"Money? How much is it going to take for you to forget what you saw at that party?"

[Name] raised both hands in the air, "I don't know where you got that idea, but I'm not interested in your money."

Alfred swallowed, thinking the worse.

She must've read his thoughts because she shook her head, "Look I don't want money, not sex, not anything, okay? I'm not trying to blackmail you."

He couldn't breathe a sigh of relief just yet.

"Then why are we talking about this?"

She shrugged and then hugged her shoulders.

She looked away, "I don't know. I've read about people with that kind of condition, I guess I was curious"

Alfred's temperature rose. It was true that what he was doing was normal but that didn't mean she had to say things like that—things that made feel like a freak—to his face.

"Condition?" He challenged her.

"Yeah." She whispered, "A condition like mine"

Alfred dropped his arms, blinking several times as he processed what she just said. He didn't expect that answer.

"But whatever" She turned, "It's all in the past now. You better get back to Arin's room before she falls asleep."


	4. Someone Like Me

Alfred peered over Tori's shoulder, half-heartedly listening to the gossip about Blackwell's popular Heather Bing and her alleged sex scandal with a college student. (Alfred had stopped caring much for Bing ever since he caught her trying to seduce someone else during a party—while they were still dating.)

"What are you looking at? Oh" Tori had noticed his distracted gaze looking past her and turned to see what he was so fixated on. "Juniors. They're Rosewaters and very rich. Old money." She said as she spotted the twins laughing, but clearly not paying attention to [Name]. "They're twins, the blondes—obviously. Rumor has it that the Rosewaters are related to British royalty"

Frankly, Alfred wouldn't be surprised if they were. Eloise was poised and had all the makings of a high queen and Allen was a disciplined prince. He wasn't sure about Arin though. But he didn't let his mind wander too far about the Rosewaters. He was interested in someone else.

But Tori didn't bother to tell him about the girl with the two possible royals, which bothered him because [Name] was the real reason why he'd been spacing out since homeroom.

After his failure of a first session as Arin's tutor he had spent a good deal of his night staring at the ceiling and his glow-in-the-dark stars. The stars reminded him of happy times, of apple pies and lazy Sunday afternoons, the years before this fucking sickness got to him. He then remembered [Name] and the Rosewater family's protectiveness of her. Was she sick too? He hadn't expected her to talk to him the way she did that evening. No apology, no pity either. The way she tilted her head and asked if he was going to throw up again, she looked at him like he was an endemic bird from Africa, like he fascinated her. How does one deal with a person like that? Alfred didn't know, and he fell asleep still not knowing what the girl thought of him.

"I hear she already slept with half the members of the hockey team" Tori blurted out and Alfred shook his head, realizing that he'd been staring the entire time.

"What?"

"The girl twin" Tori pointed out, unaware that Alfred's eyes were on [Name] and not Arin.

"What about her?"

"Jesus." Tori sighed "There's a rumor that she's already slept with half of the basketball team."

Alfred slanted his head, half-amused and half-confused. Amused because Tori was jealous and for all the wrong reasons, and confused because so what if Arin got around? Ethan was basically sex on a stick and Tori never called him out for it.

"Why are you telling me this"

"Because I don't want you associating yourself with a girl who throws herself at any guy. _At many guys._ "

He chuckled "Thank you for your concern, Tori. But I assure you, Arin Rosewater isn't my type. She's too. . ." She's annoying, he wanted to say, recalling how she insulted his intelligence at first meeting. "She's just not my type" He grinned and ruffled Tori's hair.

 _And my love life isn't the issue right now,_ he thought as he snuck one last glance of [Name] before the bell for next period rang.

 

Today's lunch was mac and cheese. It came out looking like bright yellow rice the second time around.

Alfred flicked his hands, annoying droplets of water going everywhere as he stepped out the men's room.

"Don't you guys have paper towels in there?" Alfred jumped at the sudden voice behind him. It was [Name]. She didn't look the least bit embarrassed or awkward despite the intrusion.

He just stared at her.

She sighed and opened her backpack. "I was on my way to the cafeteria when I saw you walk here. Something told me that you didn't go pottie"

"Why do you care?" It came out more bitter than Alfred intended but [Name] merely shrugged.

"You seem like a nice guy. You apologized for your douchebag friend." She pushed a box of Kleenex to his chest.

"Ethan. . .he can rub off some people the wrong way"

She moved past Ethan and continued, "This is going to seem cliché but people like you tend to be more prone to depression so I'm going to just say it straightly: Whatever problem you have now, it's gonna pass. Don't take out your anger on anyone or yourself."

Alfred hadn't expected that.

She fished out something from her bag and handed it to him. "Here"

Alfred eyeballed the Tupperware full of chopped bananas and soda crackers.

"They can help calm your stomach, chew slowly. And don't stuff yourself or you're gonna want to throw up again." She talked to him like she was his pediatrician, speaking clearly and with a wagging finger. Amusement tugged at Alfred's lips as he watched her finished with a huff.

"Anyway, that's all I wanted to say"

 _That's all you wanted to say?_ No _aw, poor Alfie_ —no bullshit. Straight to the point but sympathetic. Awe-struck and a bit charmed, Alfred watched her check the time on her phone.

"That's Arin. She already bought me lunch." She said it more to herself than to him.

"You sound exasperated"

"A little. Yes." She shut her phone "Arin's my best friend but she likes to baby me. She and Allen both, actually"

"From personal experience I can tell you're not the type of person who likes to be babied" He pointed out, referring to how brazen yet nonchalant she'd been with him right now.

"No" She shook her head softly "No, I do not." She said, and then raised a brow at his widened eyes "What is it?"

He blinked, "Ah. It's just that you and Allen and Arin. . .you don't really seem compatible"

She giggled and Alfred gawked at her wide-eyed. She'd never smiled before, let alone laugh. "The preppy prince, the pretty blonde and the chubby loner, right?"

Alfred flushed "That's not what I—"

"I know, I was just teasing you." She said, expression softening.

Alfred paused and then waved the container in the air, the crackers bumping against the plastic, "I still got time before bio" He edged his chin towards the cafeteria entrance "Care to share a booth?"

*****

"You're smiling" Arin narrowed her eyes playfully as you opened the passenger side door.

"I am?" She forced your chin up the rearview mirror. You gave her a half-shrug. "I guess I am"

Allen joined in moments later, setting three thick books and a big binder down in the backseat before shrugging off his backpack.

"[Name]'s been smiling" Arin announced.

You rolled your eyes "It isn't a big deal" Actually, it was. Ever since the incident genuine smiles were rare to come by.

"We should celebrate." Allen fixed the collar of his polo shirt.

"I don't remember the last time you smiled like this" Arin turned on her iPod.

You buckled your seatbelt "You mean before winter vacation happened?"

The twins fell into a silence and you suddenly felt guilty. You cleared your throat "It was a joke, guys. I'm. . .I'm dealing with it."

Arin reached over the armrest and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"We're right here" Allen whispered.

"I know, I know. You two and Jennifer and Muriel and Geoffrey. I just feel so—"

"Don't say it" Allen warned. _Don't say guilty_.

You disagreed, but wisely nodded. "Okay"

 


	5. Guilty People

Hey Mom,

I am so stupid.

I met a boy from a party. But before we get to the nitty-gritty let me set the scene:

It's Sunday, Arin pulls me out of my bed after she dragged her brother away from the library. They force me out of my sweats and into a snug pair of jeans that have been with me since. . .since Torrington. Arin slaps makeup on me, then next thing I know we're driving west towards the Prescotts' estate.

"If it sucks we can just go home" Allen said in a reassuring tone. If it sucks—and it did, but I'll get to that later—I'd still stay because the Rosewaters have stuck with me for so long and even though neither of the twins show it I'm positive that they want to get out of the house, because when I'm not at school I'm always in the guest bedroom (Jennifer insisted that I could call it my room since the twins decorated it for me, but I already know I'm a leech and claiming such an enormous space mine would be a douchebag thing to do).

It's almost ten and Arin is gone. Allen stops talking with _The Observer's_ (the school newspaper) editor-in-chief and we split up to search for Arin. After five minutes I decide to check outside to see if maybe she's making out with some guy there.

She's not in the front yard so I check the back. That's when I saw him.

He is every—sorry, _most_ girls' wet dream: sandy blonde hair, summer blue eyes, broad shoulders and strong arms built for a swimmer (I don't know why a swimmer when he's clearly a football player). He has good looks but I'm not swooning, you know he isn't my type. Far from it. But I digress.

Get this: I caught him throwing up. At first I thought he was drunk as a lot of the kids in a high school party are (I'm not one of them, cross my heart), but nope, he stuck out a finger and shoved it down his throat.

I caught him again in the bathroom downstairs. Oh, I forgot to tell you that he's Arin's tutor now (poor guy). Anyway, against what my superego shouted at me, I spoke with him. He thought I was blackmailing him. Like I could do something like that.

Cue the sarcastic eye-roll from the audience, right, ma?

Ugh.

What was I thinking approaching Alfred like that? And not just Alfred, mind you, _the_ Alfred—Alfred F. Jones. (I have asked five people, two from my class and three from random corners, but no one knew what the F stood for)

I don't know why I'm sharing this with you. This kind of thing. . .I've been there. We all know that, and I know I already told Alfred I wouldn't tell a soul, but I couldn't keep it to myself. I just couldn't. Why do I even care?

Dammit.

I shouldn't be talking to people anymore, not since what happened back in freaking Torrington.

I wish dad would forgive me. I miss you both.

xxx,

[Name]

*****

Arin wasn't budging, and even though tonight was his second session with her so far Alfred had a feeling she didn't plan on making things easier for him. Of course, he had realized that he could just pretend to actually do things and still get paid. Easy money. But Alfred wasn't raised like that. It was no different from whoring himself out in the streets—an act his parents would never understand. _Honor before pragmatism._

Arin opened a Vogue and seemed to have completely blocked out Alfred's existence.

 _You need this job. You need this job._ He repeated inside his head, twirling the number two pencil between his fingers lest he'd snap it in half.

He tapped his foot impatiently but when she simply flipped through the magazine he shot up, the heavy wooden chair slid behind him.

He sighed. "I need to use the bathroom"

She hummed uninterestedly and said nothing in return. Alfred rolled his eyes as he turned his entire body with controlled force. Too controlled. He left the room and started walking aimlessly, hoping he'd find a washroom.

He breathed a curse after ten minutes of no luck. He was an eagle scout for God's sake! How could he get lost in a house?

 _A palace._ He immediately corrected himself.

The Rosewater manor's halls were long and large and with infinite curves and turns. What's worse was that all the doors were painted the same eggshell white, a lot of them were locked and the rest were empty bedrooms. The only breadcrumb trails he had were a few random paintings and vases. He didn't really needed to go, he just needed a walk but he was an idiot not to ask for directions.

He grabbed the hundredth door. Locked. He groaned.

"Muriel?" He retrieved his hand at the voice. He rubbed his nape "Uh. No." He spurted out awkwardly.

From the other side of the double doors, he could hear shuffling of furniture, the rustling of paper and a thud—then a hiss. A second later there was the familiar click of a lock and he was looking straight at [Name]. This time her hair was down, framing her plump face, dark circles around her eyes. She wore a t-shirt a plumbob on it and too-big sweatpants.

"You're a long way from Arin's room" She said.

He shrugged, smiling wryly. "I needed to pee and I got. . .lost"

"Ah." [Name] nodded understandingly, "She didn't tell you she had her own bathroom"

Alfred felt his left eye twitch. "I don't think she likes me"

"Don't take it personally. She's sweeter on the inside."

_How deep inside?_

[Name] burst out laughing and he realized he said the words aloud.

"She's just protective" _Of what exactly?_ He couldn't remember a single, reasonable cause that could earn him a bad place on Arin's people list.

"Right" was all he said.

[Name] tilted her head and then shook her head. "You can use my bathroom." She gestured for him to come in. "Careful not to step on anything. I'm searching for something so it's a little messy" By his feet were a couple of Blu-ray DVDs. He stepped around them and then finally glanced up.

The muscle attached to Alfred's jaw loosened and a near-silent gasp left his lips. _This room_ , he began as he took in every inch of the space: dark blue walls covered with posters of videogames (from _Bioshock_ to _The Last of Us_ ), sitcoms (from _The Golden Girls_ to _Seinfeld_ ) and movies (from _Halloween_ to _The Godfather_ ), a _Batman_ logo-shaped bookshelf hung above the bed, an Alienware desktop computer sat in a corner next to a TV set with a PS3, PS4 and Xbox—This room was every geek's fantasy (even he had to admit the soft white Christmas lights by the bed were a nice touch).

The perfect gaming loft. The ultimate fan hideaway.

Alfred's eyes fell on two glass cases. Anime figurines and videogame collectibles— _and a personalized_ Gears of War _helmet!_

Holy shit, this girl had everything he wanted.

[Name] giggled next to him "See something you like, football?"

He flushed. He turned away from the signed poster of _Supernatural_. However, he didn't bother to hide his excitement as he stared at her desktop wallpaper. " _Arkham Asylum_?"

She nodded.

He whistled lowly.

"You didn't really need the bathroom" It was not a question.

He grinned sheepishly "Arin was kind of too much. I just needed a short break." He then went to quietly gush over the consoles.

[Name] went to her desk, rummaged through the clutter in her drawer, and then called Alfred. He turned around just in time to catch a pastel blue notebook.

No wait, it had a magnetic lock—

"It's a day planner" She explained "I used to tutor Arin in English and history. I have notes there"

"About _Frankenstein_?"

"About fashion. Arin is an artist. Do your research, tell her what the men and women would've worn during the time. Describe what boots the townsfolk had on"

"These are distractions" Alfred scanned the contents. Pictures, cutouts, scribbles, sketches. Dated and cited. Very anal.

"They're a start. When you learn to speak her language she'll lower her guard and start focusing on the lesson even without the fashion facts"

"You're a good friend" Alfred shut the planner "and the perfect teacher. Maybe you should be a professional one in the future"

"Forty Arin's?" She then made a face "I might kill my students"

Alfred burst out laughing. "Well, thanks, I'll try it out right now"

"You have access to WiFi?"

His fingers clamped down on his nape. [Name] rolled her eyes and she spun the chair, it swiveled to face Alfred.

He blinked. He slowly turned to her. She shrugged and raised a book "I'll be reading on the bed. Go ahead and print if you want to" She hopped on the mattress, crossed her legs, and opened _Gone Girl_.

 

Alfred finished his research just when Muriel knocked at the door.

"Dinner" She softly informed [Name], but went wide-eyed at seeing Alfred in the room. However, she regained her composure, nodded in acknowledgment and left without another word.

Alfred didn't bother to ask what that was about because usually teenage boys weren't allowed in teenage girls' bedrooms.

Fortunately, Jennifer didn't seem to know and dinner went smoothly. Mostly.

Arin didn't give Alfred a chance to speak with [Name] the entire time. Jennifer said nothing of it, but Allen tried his best to act amicable towards their guest. So far it was tolerable, far from ideal but still bearable, but then Arin spoke up: "He's doing a shitty job"

"Not at the table" Jennifer calmly warned her granddaughter.

"Arin" Allen exhaled, exasperated.

"He left me alone for forty minutes. You call that a good tutor?"

"He was with me" Everybody, that included Geoffrey and Muriel, turned to [Name]. She cut the opera "He went to my room and asked for my help. It's my fault, Alfred's trying his best for you, Arin."

Alfred gulped. Arin looked just about ready to jump on the table with her perfect teeth bared to him.

Jennifer sipped on her tea "How thoughtful of you." Only Jennifer knew whom the words were meant for.

After three agonizing seconds, Alfred decided he was full and put down his fork and slowly rose "Excuse me"

He remembered the bathroom from yesterday and he had more paintings and statues to help him around the mansion.

Once he was done he saw [Name] walking towards him.

"Did you wash your hands?"

"Yeah—" She lightly shoved a box of crackers towards him "Why do you keep feeding me? And crackers?"

"They can calm down your stomach"

". . .Can I ask you a question?"

"I'd be a bitch if I didn't let you"

He found her sense of humor amusing, but still he kept a straight face "You know a lot about my. . .my condition. And you're being awfully nice to a guy you don't know. What. . .what happened to you?"

She didn't tell him to piss off, but she gave him something worse. She flashed him a small and bitter smile, "Things and stuff" She didn't expand on these things and stuff.

"I'll see you around" She muttered and head into a hallway.

*****

Alfred parked the red truck in his parents' garage. As he dropped his keys into the empty fishbowl in the living room and greeted his mom, he could only think of one thing: I need sleep. Lots of sleep.

He showered in the only bathroom of the Jones household, changed into comfortable clothes and returned to his bedroom coveting nothing more but his scentless pillows. However, in his half-dead state, he didn't see clearly and tripped on his backpack. The contents fell to the floor—why didn't he zip it up properly?

He growled. He did a double take.

Was that? No way!

A sticky note was placed on top of a still unwrapped copy of _Batman: Arkham Asylum_.

_A sorry and a thank you for putting up with my best friend._

Warmed by the gesture, Alfred almost smiled. Almost.

He clutched the package tightly.

Only his parents knew of his passion for such things not involved in football, Ethan didn't like gamers. Or readers. Or anyone who wasn't into sports and only sports.

Now, Alfred didn't _hate_ the label of Mister Big Man on Campus, however, labels were so ridiculous, labels had people thinking they knew a person—and by acting as a certain type he got himself a position. A position that felt amazing. At first. If you were to ask Old Alfred "What would you do if one day you wake up and everyone loved you?", he'd say that he would celebrate and do anything to keep that position. The New Alfred, Today's Alfred would like to get rid of that position, but it was all he had. And he couldn't go back to being Old Alfred. Never again.


	6. My Kind of Weird

Alfred wasn't a moron but he liked to think that every one had goodness inside them so he refused to doubt [Name]'s generosity. Not less than a week in and Arin's disinterest is already fading into nonexistence, all thanks to [Name]'s tips.

He was making progress with her and she was becoming less and less hostile, meaning she no longer makes fun of him for being a jock.

Rain began to pour just when he arrived at the Rosewater Estate. Tomorrow was a Saturday and he planned on finishing early to catch up on much needed sleep.

"Good evening" Alfred waited for Muriel to invite him in but she gave him a regretful look.

"I'm sorry, dear, but Miss Arin has been feeling under the weather since this morning. I'm afraid you won't be able to tutor her tonight."

"He's still invited for dinner though"

The two turned to the staircase where [Name] stood with a mysterious smile "He drove all the way here, we can't just send him back like an unwanted stray" She walked towards the door.

"I don't mind—"

She grabbed his sleeve "Nope. The weather is bad enough as it is, best to wait it out until the rain stops or at least weakens."

"Good point" He then caught himself, "But what am I supposed to do in the meantime?"

"Arin got an A-minus yesterday I want to thank you on her behalf"

"Her hard work is enough" He said with a curved mouth.

"The theatre has been set up, we were supposed to watch together but Arin is sick and Allen is busy with studying. How do you feel about horror movies?"

"This isn't some cheap ploy to get an unwitting, innocent boy into falling for you using the suspension bridge effect, is it?"

She let out a dry _Ha!_ and stared him down, crossing her arms "I don't need to trick a boy into liking me. I'm trying to be a hospitable hostess and good friend to Arin by offering you with a movie marathon in a private theatre, but now I'm starting to think that maybe the football captain is not that tough after all"

He mirrored her stance, finding amusement in her teasing eyes "Care to put a wager on that?"

"That depends on how much."

"You first"

"No deal. I want to hear your price first" Her shoulders rolled back "It doesn't have to be money. Hm. . ." She pretended to study him "Maybe I'll take your jacket"

A hand possessively, reflexively flew to the collar of his varsity, "You drive a hard bargain"

"Then don't play hard ball with me"

His lips quirked "Why don't you just tell me what you want?"

"Why don't you two just get a room and watch the damn movie already?" Allen passed by the hall, a book to his nose.

Alfred shook his head "All right, how about this: we decide what we want after we've watched the movies and I've proven that I'm without a doubt one of the toughest males in Blackwell history"

"Nothing sexual"

"Or has the potential to be brought to court" He might've seen her face harden for a split second, but he blinked and her smirk was back.

"The first to scream bloody murder loses"

"We're on an agreement then?"

She didn't take off her eyes from his when they shook hands "Prepare to lose, Football"

His smile widened and Alfred could see himself falling for this girl.

[Name] asked Muriel to prepare the popcorn and sodas before flicking her head towards the stairs, silently ordering Alfred to follow her. They reached the third floor and she went to a door at the end of the west wing. (He still can't get over the fact that he's in a house with a west wing)

"Okay, choose your burial site."

"Holy cow. . ." Alfred whistled lowly. When she said private theatre he pictured a living room with a plasma TV, not an actual theatre complete with black walls and folding red seats, a wall served as the screen.

"I know" She giggled and his stomach did a backflip. She should giggle more. "Kind of makes it hard to focus on schoolwork"

"What's the movie?" He chose the seats in the third row.

She thanked Muriel before running up to him with the food and drinks "A special playlist of mine. I've already watched some and the rest are completely new"

"That's cheating" He said but he grinned.

"We already shook hands on it. Don't pussy out on me now."

He guffawed.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just that you come off so demure to me. Well, that was my initial impression, but then you started talking. Still, hearing. . .that word come out your mouth is weird"

"Is weird bad, Mr. Football Star?"

He raised his arms "Not at all. Weird is good. I like weird"

"Then there you have it. I tend to say fuck and shit a lot too so best not to eat and drink here when you're under the impression that I speak like a proper lady"

"I'll keep that in mind" He tugged the bowl from her and set it down on his lap. He popped a popcorn into his mouth "And I'm no pussy"

Three hundred minutes later, Alfred lost.

"Ah, so stringy-haired females are your weakness?" [Name] sipped on her Coke.

"When they're little girls who can kill with just one look. Yes, they're my Achilles' heel." He kept his gaze glued to the wall on his right.

She laughed.

"You win, okay? Now shut it off! I can feel her looking at me"

She shrugged and clapped her hands. The projector switched off as the white lamps came to life to provide light in the theatre.

"I must say, I'm impressed. Any other 'tough Blackwell male' would act unafraid and tell me to keep playing the movie"

"Is she gone?" His voice trembled slightly.

"She's gone"

The door creaked open and Alfred jumped in his seat and kicked the bowl, burnt kernels flew into [Name]'s hair.

"Chill, will you?" She cackled and threw a popcorn at his nose "It's just Muriel. Supper is—" The air outside boomed with thunder and the room was engulfed in darkness.

"Oh, _fuck_." He heard her say.

*****

"I know, they say I can stay here until the storm passes. You guys stay safe there. Bye, dad." Alfred's phone beeped. _LOW BATTERY 10% LEFT_.

He groaned, having forgotten his charger at home.

"You sure you're not hungry?" [Name] asked, she waited in the doorway with a plate of five Oreos and a tall glass of milk.

"Now I am" He moved away from the window and gently took the tray from her, which he set down on the bed. He didn't eat supper, watching _Cannibal Holocaust_ and _The Last House on the Left_ can do that to a man.

"How are your parents?"

He twisted the top half of the Oreo "They're all right. The water drowned dad's garden but at least it didn't reach the house. Yet" He licked the cream off the cookie.

"I'm sure they'll be okay"

"I hope so"

For a moment, none of them spoke. She stayed quiet wearing an unreadable expression, as though her mind was someplace else. Alfred cleared his throat, unable to eat properly with her like that.

"Alfred" She whispered.

"Yeah?"

"How many miles before your truck runs out of gas?"

"I'm not sure, um, 240 miles or so. Why?"

She shook her head and smiled weakly "Muriel put a pitcher of water on the dresser. Enjoy the cookies" She hugged herself and left the guest room.

Alfred finished the last of the Oreos, threw up, changed into a robe and plopped down on the queen bed. But he didn't sleep, not early enough, because at around one a.m. he found [Name] hovering above his face.

"What—mpf!" She covered his mouth and raised a finger over her lips.

"I won the bet. I'm cashing in my chips" She shoved his clothes into his chest "I'll explain everything in the car, now hurry. We only got six hours before Geoffrey comes to check up on you" She turned her back to him and he realized she was waiting for him to change.

As Alfred slipped into his jeans, he saw that [Name] had put on a black hoodie and tucked all of her hair inside a black cap.

"I'm done"

"Okay" She gave him a card "Look familiar?"

"Rosewood General Hospital. Well, I don't know the hospital but I do know the town, it's located up north, about two hours from here. Wait, you want me to drive you there? In the middle of the night?"

"Technically, it's morning"

"I'm not a morning person. Now either you tell me what's going on or I tell Eloise about this" He didn't mean it, and he regretted saying it when she collapsed to her knees and clung to his t-shirt. Tears spurted from her eyes and every breath came as a gasp.

"No! They can't know, please, I just need to see him. Even if just for a moment! Please don't tell, please don't tell—"

"Okay, okay" He grabbed her shoulders and eased her up "It's okay. I won't tell anyone, just breathe."

She swallowed hard and slowly her breaths started to return to normal.

"I'll take you where you need to go" He squeezed her lightly "But you need to tell me why you need to be there"

"My dad. I need to see my dad." She croaked and then wheezed.

"Is your dad in the hospital?"

She nodded.

"What happened?"

She lifted her head and whispered, "I tried to kill him"


	7. Skeletons in the Closet

He grabbed your arm "Come on. We need to leave before they find us." But you weren't paying attention to him anymore, your pulse rang in your ears and you stared at your father's unmoving body.

A distant voice shook you awake and you hit your forehead on the window.

"We're here" Alfred stated the obvious. The rain didn't reach Rosewood but two a.m. anywhere was never a place of comfort.

You stared at the hospital, which looked more like a haunted bleached-white English fortress than a health institute. You took off your cap and then slipped a red-streaked wig over your head before unzipping your hoodie to reveal a horrible polka dot blouse.

"Seems like you're all dressed up for the occasion" Alfred watched you put on a pair of cat eye glasses.

"I don't want the staff finding out I'm here" You reached for the door handle but the engine stopped and you whipped your head back to Alfred. "What are you doing?"

He unbuckled his seatbelt "I'm going with you"

"Are you crazy? You're gonna attract everyone's attention"

"Oh and your haute couture clothes won't?" He dumped his blue and white varsity into the backseat in favor of a brown bomber jacket.

You rolled your eyes "Whatever, but keep your distance. If the cops start asking around I'm sure everyone will remember the golden boy with glasses and blonde hair"

He chuckled "Hardly golden, but thank you"

You got out of the truck and speed-walked past the low-on-sleep, burly security guard. The AC gave you goosebumps and your nose scrunched up once it caught a whiff of the disinfectant.

The elevator was empty and Alfred made no attempt to chat, maybe because he could feel the dread radiating from your skin. That was fine. You needed these few ten seconds or so to think.

You've always leaned on the heavy side, but your already low self-esteem started to crumble during middle school, and during those years the twins were in England. Mom had divorced your dad and left you in his care five years prior, and your father though caring, had a difficult time connecting with his adolescent daughter. Everyone in school either ignored or mocked you.

You had no one to talk to.

But you held on for as long as you could—until freshman year at Torrington High. That was when you hit rock bottom and the worst possible time to find love.

Your first love.

You hugged yourself and pushed his image away. No, you didn't want to remember him.

You felt something warm over your shoulders and you looked up at Alfred who gave you a small but warm smile "It can't be that bad, right?"

It was bad. Very bad. But you didn't want to worry him any further, so you took a deep breath and nodded as you held the collar of his jacket. "Yeah. Let's hope so."

*****

Alfred could tell that the situation was bad, she'd been shaking since she stepped out of the passenger seat and inside the hospital vestibule. Her face lost its glow and her movements were stiff.

Now she was lying and it kind of hurt that she didn't trust him enough.

However, he didn't question her when they snuck inside private room and he found a man with in the bed. He had an IV in his hand and other tubes attached to the nose and mouth. His eyelids seemed to be permanently shut. Alfred shuddered. He often wondered what it'd be like to be in a coma and he would rather be euthanized than spend the rest of his life like Sleeping Beauty. But he wisely didn't tell her that.

There was no light except for the moon outside, but even then he could see that the man shared [Name]'s complexion, and his hair was greying but it was the same colors as her.

She stepped forward "Hey, daddy" She whispered in a hoarse voice threatening to cry, and Alfred willed himself not to wrap his arms around her.

"I'm sorry I haven't visited in a while." She grabbed the man's hand "Don't get mad at Eloise. She thinks it's best for me to keep my distance, she means well."

[Name] folded and soon she was on her knees, pressing her cheek against her father's palm "I'm so sorry, daddy. This is my fault. You were right, I should've listened."

Alfred shifted on his feet. This was an intimate moment and he was an intruder.

"Mom was right, I'm nothing but waste" She chuckled dryly, the hurt in her tone did not go unnoticed and Alfred frowned. What kind of mother would call her child waste?

"I wish I can stay long. Hell, I wish for a lot of things, at the top of my list. . .I-I wish I wasn't such an idiot back then" Her whimper reached Alfred's ears and his heart grated.

"I'll see you in the future, dad. I don't know how long it's going to take but I promise I'll come back for you." She pressed her lips on the inside of his hand and then rose.

Alfred called out her name and she wiped the tears before turning around "I'm okay. We should go now"

"We can stay as long as you like. Aside from getting offended at me leaving without saying goodbye I think Geoffrey won't mind if he doesn't find me in the house" He hoped the joke would cheer her up. He sighed inwardly when she laughed lightly.

"That's true but. . .I don't want to worry the twins or Eloise"

"Are you sure?"

She nodded and gave her dad one last look "Let's go. . .before I change my mind"

 

The drive back to Blackwell was quiet, and not just because [Name] was asleep. Every time Alfred snuck a glance of her she was wide awake, a distant expression on her face.

He sighed and gripped hard on the wheel. She blinked "What are you doing? The road back to the house is _that_ way"

"Wow. I didn't expect you to notice" Alfred was genuinely taken aback when she noticed that he took the wrong turn. She was a self-admitted shut-in after all.

"I do my homework before I carry out a plan. I've been meaning to visit my dad for months now."

"And all you needed was an unwitting, innocent boy to give you a lift"

She lowered her gaze "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to use you like that, the idea just came to me when Eloise offered you to stay the night."

"I know" He slowed down in front of a diner.

"And why are we stopping at Goodman's Diner?"

"Because my mom works here and she serves the best waffles in the world. We have an hour and—" he checked his watch "fifty minutes"

*****

"He wasn't kidding" You smiled at the waitress who reminded you of Marilyn Monroe "These are delicious, Mrs. Jones"

"It's Lorelei, honey. Mrs. Jones makes me feel old" Paired with her no-nonsense, sweet nature was a light Southern accent.

"She doesn't look a day over thirty" Alfred slurred between bites.

Lorelei ruffled his hair "Close your mouth when you eat" She grinned at you "Take care of him"

"Oh, we're not—" But a customer raised his arm and Lorelei was on her way to his table.

You giggled softly "Your mom's awesome. Where's she from?"

"Georgia" He wiped the corners of his mouth with a tissue "Dad's from New York but he lived in Georgia for a while, worked as a mechanic to save up for college. He met my mom there. They fell in love and she got pregnant with me"

"Aw"

"She was nineteen"

"Oh"

He chuckled "It's fine. Mom doesn't regret a thing. Her parents wanted her to get an abortion but she was already six months pregnant."

"She left her family to marry your dad" You finished.

"Yup. But mom was sick of her life at home, at least that's what she tells me. She was the youngest of seven spoiled sisters and everyone expected her to marry a wealthy man"

"Ouch"

"Yeah, but hey, when life gives you lemons. . ." He shrugged and gulped down the rest of the milk.

He burped. You laughed, "Excuse you"

"Sorry but I only had five Oreos for dinner last night"

You twirled your knife between your fingers. You couldn't shake the curiosity away and so you asked "When did it start?" You didn't dare say what, but he knew what you meant.

Alfred leaned on the table "A secret for a secret."

"Fine"

He spoke lowly, but you could hear him. "I was fifteen, the girl I've been crushing on since diapers rejected me because I was a geek and I was fat"

"Bitch"

"I know" He tapped the empty milk glass "Now it's your turn"

"You didn't give details"

"I gave enough" He retorted.

You threw your hands up in surrender "Okay. Fire away"

"What. . ." He hesitated "Why are you living with the Rosewaters?"

You thought he was about to ask you and your confession about trying to kill your father, nevertheless, you answered "Dad was my only guardian. Dad's parents—my grandparents are dead but they left me a trust, which I will have the right to claim once I turn eighteen. In the mean time, Eloise, my dad's boss and a longtime family friend, decided to look after me."

There was a pause. And then he said "I had fried chicken for dinner that night. I went to the bathroom and stuck a toothbrush down my throat." He let go of the glass "What about your mom?"

"My mom. My mom's a mythic bitch. I like to pretend that I have a mom. A good mom who didn't leave my dad and me when I was only four, sometimes I write letters to that woman that I never send. It helps control my urges"

"Urges?" His eyes widened.

You followed his gaze and you quickly pulled back your hand from your wrist, the faintest scar was barely visible but he saw it. You gave him a weak smile, "Split the bill?"


	8. Can't Help It

Alfred tapped his foot impatiently.

Ethan begged him to double date with "some hot college chicks at a college party" and the jerk forgot to mention that it was just _one_ college chick and her high school sister, specifically Rosalind and Heather Bing. Alfred could just strangle him.

Rosalind was Ethan's date but she's been riding her foot up Alfred's pant leg since they sat on the couch. Heather seemed to have forgotten how she cheated on him and currently had her c-cups pressed against his arm, whispering into his ear about doing certain things to convince him into taking her back.

He was certain that she'd done the same thing with that college kid, and his blood boiled at the memory, remembering the humiliation and sting of betrayal that imploded in him when he caught the two red-handed. Heather didn't even bother to explain herself, and frankly, Alfred was glad she didn't. He wasn't sure of what he would've done if she stepped out of the guy's car.

He flinched and scolded himself for thinking about hitting her.

He was raised by a woman who believed in treating everyone respectfully, but at the same time she put emphasis on never hitting a lady or gentleman who didn't stand a chance against him. Stiff upper lip and all that bullshit.

Alfred pinched the bridge of his nose. Ethan and Rosalind already slipped upstairs, most likely in her old bedroom.

"Aw, what's wrong, baby?" Heather's fingers crawled on his thigh and he slid off the couch.

"I just remembered I gotta go visit a friend" He lied and picked up his jacket from the armrest and slipped it on. It still had [Name]'s scent. The faintest trace of a rose, and not the barf-inducing kind with many perfumes, it was soft and gentle.

"I'll come with"

He raised a hand before Heather could get up. "Ah, no. You wouldn't like her"

She pushed her chest forward "I'm sure we'll get along just fine"

[Name] came into mind and Alfred smiled "I doubt it"

"What am I supposed to do then?" Heather pursed her lips together.

"I don't know. How about your sister's ex this time?" Alfred tried not to snicker at her reaction: her jaw hung from surprise, then her brows furrowed in rage and her cheeks flared with embarrassment. "Bye, Heather"

He turned and sauntered out the Bing house. He started his truck and headed for the nearest McDonald's.

As he passed the town cinema, he caught sight of a familiar form standing outside. She checked her watch, and Alfred rolled down his window. "Out on a date?"

[Name] tipped her chin "I'm not required to answer that"

"I'll take that as a yes. What kind of jerk left his date on her own?"

"Down, Killer" She cocked a brow, "Maybe he went for popcorn"

He tilted his head.

"I'm not on a date, Football. I haven't been on a date since I was a sophomore" She admitted as she sipped on her slushie "I came a little late and now I have to wait for an entire hour before I can watch my movie"

Alfred glanced over to the list of Now Showing and stared back at her with wide eyes "You plan to watch _It Comes at Night_ on your own—you do realize it's already ten o'clock, don't you?"

"I'm no pussy"

"I don't see a car anywhere. How do you plan on getting home?" There was something more than simple compassion working its way through his words, this wasn't concern for a random girl; he was worried for [Name]. Though tiny there were a lot of sickos in Blackwell.

"Geoffrey will be picking me up. I have him on my contact list" She shifted her hip "I'm not an idiot"

Alfred chuckled, "No, you're not." The faded scar on the underside of her arm appeared in his head but he shooed it away. "But you have a private theatre at home"

"I'm not a freaking hermit, Alfred. Besides, it was getting lonely in the house." She mumbled the last part.

He nodded, "Arin's still sick" She has been for three days now, but Alfred didn't enjoy the time off as much as he expected.

"And Allen's still busy"

"Does he ever sleep?"

"I quote: 'I'll sleep when I'm dead.' Sometimes I'm convinced that maybe he's not completely human." She paused "Not that I mean it derogatorily"

"Maybe he's a robot"

"Alien"

"Vampire"

"White Walker"

There was a beat as they locked gazes, a second later they burst out laughing. Their voices filled the empty air and Alfred realized that it had been a while since he laughed like this.

She kicked a pebble on the pavement. "You got plans tonight?"

"I did. But I changed my mind"

"Bad party?"

"Bad company" He brushed back his hair "I ran into my ex"

"Heather Bing. The queen of Blackwell Academy." Seriously? Even she knew. [Name] tapped the plastic cup as she watched him "Do you wish to ease your burden, son who has sinned?"

Alfred sighed "It's a long story"

She pointed at her watch "It's a long movie"

*****

He stared at you. Then he sighed again. The car locks clicked and he thrust his thumb towards the passenger seat. You flashed him a smile and rounded the truck.

According to rumors, Heather broke up with Alfred because he couldn't keep up with her. You pulled out a Twix from your purse and split it in half. Alfred began telling you his side of the story. He told you about how he helped his dad at his repair shop when he was ten, then when he turned sixteen he started working at construction sites; he got ripped and he managed to make it into the football team.

Heather flirted with him a few times in the past, even when she knew he was with other girls. At sixteen they became a couple. He told you about how he caught her in another guy's car. He stopped dating since then.

"Did you love her?"

He gave you a look, you played with the straw of your slushie. He pushed his glasses up his nose "Nah. I was vain, and we were compatible in that sense only. Heather wanted the shiny new toy—the jock with the brains, and I needed the popularity boost, but I didn't love her. When she cheated on me I was more pissed that she betrayed my trust and made me look like a fool" He slumped in his seat and let out a breath like he's been wanting to say that for some time now but couldn't.

You regarded him with quiet interest. "Was she your first fuck?"

He jerked. Pink tinted his cheeks, he was adorable. You giggled, "Sorry, Captain America. Let me rephrase: was she the one to _deflower_ you?"

"No" He shook his head, grinning "I'm a virgin"

You slammed the slushie cup on the dashboard "Get outta here"

Alfred's shoulder shook with laughter "Is it so hard to believe?"

"It's just that. . .yeah! A virgin. _A virgin?_ Everything I know is a lie" Alfred F. Jones was a _virgin_.

"I'm in no hurry to get deflowered, thank you very much. Besides, most girls I dated left me after the first three dates."

"Why?"

"I wasn't experienced. French kissing alone scared the living hell out of me, touching a girl's boobs was. . ." He trailed off with a shrug. "Anyway, I only dated five girls in my life. Three of them had experience and weren't willing to take it slow"

"Wow. Um, I'm sorry. I was just surprised is all, it's just that you're so. . .so. . ." Clever. Funny. Sweet. Only an impatient idiot would leave him.

"So what?" He propped his arms on the steering wheel and slanted his head. _So fucking sexy._

You flushed and waved your hands "Nothing" You glanced outside your window and for a whole minute, nobody talked.

Alfred cleared his throat "Have you?"

"Hm?"

"Have you ever. . ." He seemed reluctant to say it. _What a dork,_ you smiled and giggled "I'm not a virgin anymore, Alfred. I haven't been for some time now."

"Sorry, I—"

"You can ask me, I don't mind." You folded the Twix wrapper "I've been dating this guy from my old school for six months and while my dad was away on a business trip I invited him over."

"Did it hurt?"

"At first it did. But he was gentle" You frowned "I got used to it"

"He sounds like a decent guy" Alfred muttered.

You simply hummed and he took it as a nod of agreement, but really it didn't mean anything.

"Where is he now?"

"I don't know" You lied "I haven't heard from him for some time"

"Oh"

"But he was the only man I've ever been with so if you're looking for tips I'm not the girl you should ask. Arin on the other hand. . ."

"Oh no" His arms sliced the air forming an x sign "I can just imagine what she's going to say." He shuddered.

"I was joking. Don't worry about a thing, Football. Your secret's safe with me" You reached over and patted his hand. He froze and you reeled back "Sorry"

He rubbed his nape "It's fine"His stomach made a sound and he blushed again.

Your heart squeezed, "Did you eat dinner tonight?" What you meant to say was 'Did you throw up tonight?'

"Oh yeah. Two bags of Lay's and three cans of Diet Coke. It hurt like a bitch" He reached for his middle. His eyes flew over the truck's clock. "I think it's time for your movie"

"Screw the movie." You were going to buy a ticket later but now you had no desire to leave Alfred alone. "You said you started purging when you were fifteen. Have you ever considered therapy?"

"I'm working through it. On my own."

"Are you now?"

"I am"

"I can't persuade you to go. You need to do that willingly." You unzipped your purse and rummaged inside for your wallet. "I know you saw my scar the other day. . . here" You handed him a white card.

Alfred began to read, "Dr. Gilbert. . ."

"Dr. Gilbert Beilschmidt. He was my doctor. Promise me that you'll consider this"

Alfred remained quiet.

You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "When my dad almost died I tried to commit suicide multiple times. I was. . .lost. The first time I tried I swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills. The second time, I tried to jump off a bridge. The third, I slit my wrist." You hugged yourself "While I bled, Allen found me. . . He cried. Allen never cries, but he cried as he screamed for the maid to call an ambulance. The next day, I finally agreed to meet with a therapist. I missed high school and had to repeat junior year."

Alfred stared at the card. "When we first met, you said you wanted to meet someone with your condition."

"I think it should come as no surprise that I'm no Victoria's Secret model" You joked but neither of you cracked a smile. You bit your lip, "Promise me, Alfred"

He tucked the card inside his pocket, "I promise"


	9. Realize

Facing inner demons was no easy task, and you doubted that Alfred would be calling Dr. Gil anytime soon. You were a cutter and binge-eater even before high school, but it took a few failed attempts on your life before you finally agreed to hospitalization.

"Earth to space cadet" Arin poked you with the eraser-end of her pencil "I'm waiting."

"Huh?" You shook your head "Oh, sorry. What was the next question?"

Arin feigned a melodramatic eye-roll complete with a sigh and shoulder shifting.

"Just give me the damn flashcards"

She laughed but didn't hand them over. "Explain Manifest Destiny"

"Manifest Destiny was the belief that the United States was destined to expand its territory past the North American continent and the Pacific."

"Okay, but that was easy" She read you another history question "What were the countries that composed the USSR?"

"Alphabetically? Armenia, Azerbaijan, Belarus, Estonia, Georgia, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Latvia, Lithuania, Moldova, Russia, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, Ukraine and Uzbekistan"

Arin slammed the cards on the table, ignoring the glares and shushes from the students around the library. "I give up. I'll never know how you geeks store all that crap"

You shook your head "I take it that your English test didn't go too well?"

"Au contraire" She gave you a cat-like smile and then shoved out a piece of paper towards your nose "Read 'em and weep, my darling frog."

"Wow. An A-plus." You clapped your hands lightly _"_ _Toutes nos félicitations, Madamemoiselle Arin_ _"_

"Merci" She put the test paper back in her pastel folder "I couldn't wait until five. I needed to call Grandma and tell her. She's taking us to Oka this weekend!" Oka was a restaurant. In Japan.

You flipped open your copy of _The Bell Jar_ ,"I guess that means Alfred won't be coming over this Saturday"

"He won't be coming over, period"

"What?" You yanked the bookmark off and the book shut before you could catch it "Shoot. . . Wait, what do you mean 'he won't be coming over, period'?"

"It was a joke, [Name]." And slowly, her smile curled and she reminded you of Cheshire from Tim Burton's _Alice_ "You don't like Alfred, do you?"

Your mouth was open but your tongue tripped on your words and she gasped before you could form a sentence. "Fuck me gently with a baseball. You do like him!"

 _Sh!_ The guy with the dreadlocks glared at you two from his seat.

"I don't like him."I mean, yes, I do like him. But not _that_ way."

"Don't take that bull with me. You're smitten. I knew you've been smiling way too much for comfort"

"Thank you, dear best friend" You pretended to search for your page but Arin's blue eyes wouldn't leave you.

"What is it do you like about him? Is it the smarts? The football thing? The body?" She paused and then leaned closer "This isn't rebound, is it?"

You folded the book.

Arin's brows knitted together. "I mean this is Alfred-fucking-Jones. You think Allen and I don't see it? The light hair, the blue eyes. The 'good golly, Miss Daisy!' boy next door vibe he gives off when he's not on the field." Her voice lowered a pitch as she hissed, "He's the polar opposite of Jason!"

You willed yourself not flinch at the mention of his name "I don't want to talk about it or him"

"You don't have to. I won't force you, but [Name]" She placed her hand on yours "even if this Alfred isn't a rebound. Take a chance."

"I'd be using him" You pointed out harshly and she shut up. You sighed and squeezed her "I'm sorry. I just. . .he's a good guy and I admit it, I may have a teensy-weensy crush on him, but that doesn't mean I'm only interested because of. . ."

"After He Who Shall Not Be Named. Got it. No more mention of him."

"Or my crush on Alfred" When she didn't reply immediately you cuffed her ear.

"Okay, okay! I surrender. No more talk about your teensy-weensy fascination with Football" You let her go and she rubbed her ear gingerly.

"So can I have him then?"

You shot her a look that could freeze time and she threw her head back in laughter, earning another _Shh!_

"I'm kidding. You know I'm more of a puck bunny"

*****

Alfred knew that he promised [Name] that he'll call What's-his-face but every time he dialed the number on his phone he would always delete it and do something else.

He felt guilt for lying to her face. Not because he was some gullible saint, but because he lied to [Name], who was the first person to see past his fake smiles Maybe this wasn't the first time she helped someone, but she was the first person to skip the pity party and told him straightly that he needed to go see a therapist.

"Hey there, slugger" Steve slid into the seat in front of him "Who's the girl?"

Alfred dropped a curly fry, he glanced at his father. Steve laughed.

"You've been grinning like your Uncle Sal after three bottles at a Fourth of July picnic. Likely chance is that there's a girl." He pulled the basket towards him and picked up a fry.

"She's a sweetheart. [Name], I think." Lorelei appeared and placed a burger in front of Alfred. "She was so polite and smart and funny"

"We Jones were born with good taste"

Lorelei playfully smacked her husband's shoulder and then bent over to give him a quick kiss on the lips. She patted her son's head and went to other tables.

"I'd like to meet this [Name]. If your mother likes her then she's gotta be something"

Alfred stared at the burger "She is"

"Well. . ." Steve snatched the plate from him too.

"Hey!"

"If she can make you smile like your drunk Uncle Sal and ignore a hamburger then my only advice is to never let her go"

Alfred tapped his knee in thought. "You're right. Thanks, dad" He slid out the booth and jogged out the diner. He took out his phone and waited for her to pick up.

"Hi. It's Alfred." Deep breath "Are you free this weekend?"


	10. You're Beautiful

There was no forgetting the first time you got ready for an official boyfriend-girlfriend date: you wore heels that were too tall for your liking and a skirt that hugged you too tightly, your makeup was thick and heavy and felt like paste on your skin, and your hair looked like a bundle of uncooked noodles from inexperienced curling. The doorbell rang before you could strip out your clothes and wipe off the makeup for a second try.

Jason laughed when you answered the door. You flushed with embarrassment until he grabbed your waist and pulled you in for a kiss.

_"You're beautiful"_

You jerked awake from your nap. "You're beautiful" you heard Jason's voice echo at the back of your head. You clicked your tongue and forced yourself up from the living room couch. You grabbed your phone and headed upstairs to the gaming room, where the twins played _Tekken_ on a 72' LED TV.

"I practiced that combo for a month!" Arin growled. You snickered, the TV flashed Allen's and declared him the winner. _Again_ , you thought as you snatched Allen's lemonade.

"Never mess with the master" You told her, then your phone started to ring. "[Name]'s phone" The twins turned away from the screen and stared at you.

You choked, "Alfred. Hey!"

Arin threw her pizza slice back in its box and jumped to your side, seizing your shoulders and leaning in to your phone.

"Nothing. Just game night with the twins. What? This weekend?"

Allen's eyebrows arched high, his controller left forgotten on his lazy boy "Why is he calling?"

You covered the mic and whispered "He's asking me if I'm free this Saturday"

"Why?" Arin asked.

You gave her a 'No clue' look and returned to Alfred "Yeah, still here. A movie? That's so nice but I can't this Saturday—" Arin swapped the phone from your hand and shoved your chest, forcing you down.

"Hey, Alfred, this is Arin. Ignore what my best friend was about to say. She's free all weekend. Pick her up at seven" She paused "And if you don't show up consider yourself a dead guy walking" _Beep_. She dumped the phone next to the pizza box and beamed.

Your lips twisted "What the hell was that?"

"You, my friend," She then burst out the gaming room and strutted down the hall, "Are going on a date with Blackwell Academy's football captain."

Allen shrugged and you followed her inside your bedroom.

"Arin, no. Besides we're going to Japan this Friday, I can't—"

"No, we're not" Allen said.

Arin strolled to your closet, "I told Grandma that I wanted a brand new Ferrari instead of sushi."

"You just got your Jaguar last year."

She shrugged "Yeah, but Heather Bing got a brand new Lexus and she's been flaunting it around like it's the best thing ever. If she wants attention so bad she should sell the car and get herself a professional boob job instead of those overinflated anterior implants. Ha." She commented with a snide smile.

"I still don't see why you want a Ferrari"

"Um, guys are into cars. Ferraris are among the best cars in the world. Owning the best car equals getting more guys, more guys equals a very happy Arin and a very bitter Heather Bing"

You grinned and rolled your eyes, "Right."

She placed a hand on her hip as she examined your color-coded t-shirts, sweaters and jeans. "I hope you're aware that your closet is a fashion disaster." She pulled something from the shelf in front of her, "And by the way, the new in is yoga pants" She held up your Adventure Time jogging pants in disgust, then threw it on the floor. "Don't you have anything that doesn't say 'I'll die owning twenty cats'?" She said with an exasperated sigh.

"What you see is all I have."

"I know, that's the sad part."

"Arin, don't be ridiculous. Also, you had no right to decide who I go out with."

She spun around "My bad. I guess we should go and call poor sweet Archie Andrews right now and cancel?"

Your cheeks burned with rage _"Don't."_ Your voice was cold and sharp "Don't call him that"

Arin flinched and folded her arms in front of her "Sorry. I didn't mean to. . . I was just. . ." She took a deep breath "I'm sorry"

Allen reached out to give your hand a soft squeeze. You sighed "Yeah" You and started for the door. When neither of them followed you swung your head towards the yellow clock above your bed "The mall closes at ten. Better hurry."

For a moment they simply stared in confusion. But then they exchanged looks and Arin practically bounced towards the garage. Her "boring" bright yellow Jaguar sat between Allen's Toyota Camry and your secondhand blue '79 Cadillac Seville (passed down from your father).

Arin set up her iPod and you reached the mall before "Criminals" ended.

 

The mall's AC came at full-blast and you hugged yourself, as you wished for a thicker sweater your thoughts wandered back to Alfred's bomber jacket on your shoulders.

Allen's familiar hand clamped down yours. To an outsider, his expression appeared blank and disinterested, but you could sense the warmth hidden somewhere in those pursed lips. "You were smiling just now."

Instinctively, you grabbed your mouth in silent denial.

He shook his head and led you into Forever 21. Arin was already chatting with two salespersons.

 

"Tell me again why I agreed to this" You stepped out of the dressing room with hunched shoulders. The tight red halter-top didn't feel right on your skin, nor did the ripped jeans. Everything the staff recommended suffocated you.

"Because you have a date with Al Jones."

You cringed at the nickname.

"And I don't think I need to wear these—" You aimed a finger at the black pumps Arin personally chose "these fuck me shoes."

"We're still taking it" She flicked her wrist at the sour face you made "Girl please, every woman should have a nice pair of fuck me shoes even when she's not into them."

"Whatever. Fine. But can't I just wear a funny t-shirt and Converse with a skirt?"

"Sure, and while you're at it maybe dye your hair puke green or acid blue."

You groaned.

"You need to dress up some more"

"I'm not you, Arin, I don't have freaking Angelina Jodie's body. And I don't see why I have to dress differently for a date"

"Etiquette, darling, and if Alfred's the right guy then you'd want to dress and impress"

"No, I won't"

"You will for the right guy"

"The right guy wouldn't need me to" Would he?

"Honey, come on, this is a date with a football player _and_ prom king. You're going to have all eyes and ear on you, mostly eyes—so you can't hang around with him looking like a _Life is Strange_ background character. You need to take a chance. Be a woman!"

Allen rolled his eyes.

You rubbed your forehead "That's sounds like a lot of work, but I'll see what I can do" You snapped, but you were so tried from the fitting that your tone didn't bite as hard as you intended.

Allen sighed and then casually looked inside the baskets of rejected clothes. "I'm no expert at this but how about you two try and meet in the middle?"

*****

"You know" Arin traced the ship of your lips with her MAC "this kind of reminds me of that time back in elementary. Allen and I arrived together, nobody talked to us because we were the 'rich kids' that their parents warned about not offending"

"I remember."

"But then the boys saw Allen dressing up my ballerina Barbie for me—"

"—and one kid took it and called him a fag—"

"—and you threw your frog-printed pencil case at his head and said he looked like a toad" Arin pulled back the lipstick "Stop moving!"

"Stop making me laugh!"

She grinned and returned to applying your makeup, "You offered Allen your Barbie and asked if we wanted to be our friend."

"You both said yes"

"Yes, we did." She sighed, "I missed the days that came after that. Just the three of us doing whatever and never getting in trouble"

You glanced down on your lap and stared at your manicured nails, "I miss those days too"

"Now it's. . . just so complicated. The bullies got bigger"

"And dumber" You added.

She chuckled "And dumber. The dolls became us, the toys fancier and more expensive" She gestured at her vanity. Perfumes and boxes of brushes and makeup littered the surface of her desk.

You gave her a small, sad smile "We're not Lost Children. There's no magic boy who can stop us from aging"

"Speak for yourself" She posed "I assure you, when I turn thirty I don't plan on giving up on twentysomething boys"

"I have all the faith in you."

You shared a hearty laugh, cut short only by the knock on Arin's bedroom door, followed by Geoffrey's announcement that Alfred had already arrived.

You took a final glance of yourself in the mirror. The summer blue dress twirled softly at even the slightest movement of your hips and reached a few centimeters above your thighs. (You wore cycling shorts just in case)

"Ready, froggie?" Arin affectionately pinched your elbow as you neared the last steps of the grand staircase.

"I'm ready, Barbie" You replied.

Allen and Alfred were talking in the living room, the TV was on playing a random movie when you appeared. Allen was the first to see you and winked. Alfred stood from the chair and you flushed at how mature he looked in a ¾-sleeved polo. You liked his boyish, just-got-out-of-bed look too, but sometimes surprises were okay. And you _loved_ this surprise.

He was about to say something, but did a double take when he actually _saw_ you.

You lowered your gaze. You were a thousand more shades of red as you wondered what he was thinking. Did he regret asking you out after seeing you in a dress?

*****

Holy shit. Alfred gulped hard. _Holy shit, she's in a dress._

_I've never seen you before in a dress. Or a skirt. Or anything that showed more than her arms and anything from the neck and above._

Her blue dress and white Converse gave her a casual and stylish vibe, completely different from her usual I'm-staying-in-so-why-bother attires. He was glad his mother forced him to put on something other than a plain white shirt and varsity jacket. Frankly, he had expected his date to wear a t-shirt with an emoji. He wouldn't have minded, he never openly admitted it but he appreciated casualness and a carefree attitude when it came to personal taste.

But here she was definitely not in an emoji t-shirt, but in a blue dress that accentuated her curves rather than attempt to cover them up.

Someone cleared their throat and Alfred blinked, then blushed. He'd been staring in silence for too long. But he noticed that she was flustered as well. _Good, now you and I know what effect we have to each other._

"You look. . . you look amazing" Alfred wanted to take it back. Ugh, why couldn't he be one of those guys who could pull off a compliment and not sound corny? Dammit, Shakespeare.

Thankfully, [Name] giggled (his heart fluttered again, and Alfred wondered if he would ever get used to her cute giggles. Maybe, he assumed, but he would never tire of them).

"Have her back by ten"

Alfred swung his head towards Allen, who chuckled in response "I'm joking. You can stay out until eleven." This time he was serious.

"Don't do anything reckless. If something happens to her. . ." Arin narrowed her eyes. Alfred suddenly felt like he was talking to overprotective parents.

Geoffrey emerged from who knows where. A bead of sweet rolled down his forehead "Mister Allen, Miss Arin. If I may speak with both of you in private please?"

The twins glanced at the other in question, but both of them shrugged, and then went to a corner with Geoffrey.

He ignored them and gave [Name] his full attention. "I mean it, you look great"

She nodded "Thanks. So do you."

"I hope you like horror movies"

She giggled.

Flutter. Alfred hoped this thing wasn't some symptom of a medical condition.

He offered his hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckles. He felt her shiver and immediately let her go. "Sorry"

She blinked, surprised. And then she giggled again with amusement flickering in her eyes. What was so funny?

Arin ran back towards [Name] to whisper something into her ear. Alfred didn't hear anything but from the horrified expressions Allen and Geoffrey had, he knew that it was not good.

Suddenly, [Name]'s entire body pulsated like it was hit by lightning, and then she was falling.

Alfred's reflexes kicked in and he caught her before she could hit the floor.

*****

The news was a tsunami to you. Worse. It was a volcano that came out of nowhere, sprouted in the middle of the highway and ejected lava everywhere. You were trembling, then falling. But then you weren't moving at all.

Arin's voice was still shaking when you replayed it in your head. _"There was a bombing in Ravenhearst Asylum and Jason escaped."_


	11. First Love and Other Regrets

It was only first week of eighth grade.

You walked down the hall trying to be as little as possible. But of course, they always noticed you. Quarterback Alan Johnson shoved past you, knocking your books from your arms and blowing a raspberry. How mature.

You silently picked up your things and scurried away to your locker.

Torrington Academy. Been there since kindergarten, and everything was fine until your best friends moved miles away from you.

When Arin and Allen tearfully said their goodbyes through the phone, you just knew life from then on was going to be hell. They were all you had.

Okay, so you had your father, but aside from the times when he would give you stuffed toys and Swiss chocolates he never talked to you. When he was in the kitchen you read in the attic, when he was in his office you were in the garden. You lived in the same house but considering how you two have grown apart you might as well have lived on different planets.

The whole point of school was to be a home away from home, but now it was worse than your empty house. The bullies got meaner and dumber and bitchier.

The pain that the twins helped ease swelled in your chest. You happily left the campus, but you didn't go straight home. You drove to the beach, it was August so no one else was there. Perfect.

You breathed in the salty air. You've been coming here since you were a kid, usually to write, but when the twins left you found a better way to relax.

You kicked off your shoes and slid out your sweater and jeans. A million tiny ice shards poked your skin as you waded into the water, but you didn't mind.

You took a deep breath and dove in.

The seawater scraped your eyes and the cold water made strained your every shove and thrust. You often thought about what it'd be like for the sea to claim you, pull you into its depths and have you disappear.

You never really tried anything. Not yet.

When you rose to the surface the sky was now a clear dark blue. You gathered your hair to one side and returned to land.

As you dried off with a small towel, someone spoke "For a moment there I thought you weren't coming back"

Jason Jones shoved his fists into his coat and you quickly folded your arms in front of you.

"It's a little too early for the beach, isn't it?"

You refused to meet his gaze. Your chest and stomach burned with humiliation.

"Whatever. It's still better than summer, all those people running around" He chuckled. "Jason Jones, by the way. I'm in your—"

"American History, I know."

"I'm flattered"

You shrugged "It's a small school" Everyone grew up together in Torrington. Newbies were aliens, a completely different species. The Jones family, Manhattan natives, moved in a month ago and were still the talk of the town. He was also your next-door neighbor. But this was the first time you two have acknowledged each other's presence.

"Small town" He sighed "Fucking Mrs. Johnson wouldn't stop asking me about New York"

You snorted and he grinned.

"Mrs. Johnson's husband is a lech." You muttered, "He's the fucking Humbert of Westerberg Street."

"Is he?" Jason walked closer.

"I have a friend, Arin's her name, she and I used to play Barbie in the front yard, right across the street from the Johnsons. While his wife and sons were away he tried inviting her—just her to his house, told her he had 'popsicles'" You twisted your mouth in revulsion as you recalled the way he leered at Arin's pastel tutu.

"Jesus"

"I know"

"What happened?"

You laughed, "Arin's used to kidnapping attempts. It came from being a _very_ rich kid, so she told him to back off or she'll call her grandmother." You began to explain how Eloise Rosewater wasn't the typical grandma. "She wears grey business suits and owns Torrington. Only an idiot would mess with her and her family."

A breeze blew past you and you shivered. Jason bent down to pick up your clothes. He dusted off the sand and handed you the sweater first.

"Thanks."

"No problem. . ." He turned around "So where is your friend now?"

"Friends" You corrected, "I forgot to tell you that Arin has a twin brother, Allen. They're my best friends, but. . .they moved. Their grandmother wanted them to attend a private school in England."

"Ah."

"I know" He said nothing else and you slipped back into your jeans. "How did you find this place?"

"I've been around. I don't like being in my house unless it's for sleep or a shower."

"Ever heard of a TV?" You joked.

He laughed and then faced you again "Funny"

"I am."

He tilted his head "You know, if you want results, cut vertically"

You let go of your zipper, "Excuse me?"

"Horizontal cuts are for people who want attention" He leaned in, red eyes looking dangerous in the moonlight "If you want results, you cut vertically. Spills more blood, hard to stitch up."

You looked at him with horror. Shit! You forgot to cover up your arms when you emerged.

Jason rolled up his sleeve to show a nasty scar that extended between his wrist and a few inches before his elbow. "I speak from experience"

Someone called your name and you woke up.

"Jason. . ." You whispered.

Alfred's blue eyes were wide with worry, you were on his lap and he held your cheek in one hand.

"We already called Grandmother. She's going to talk with the cops and the family detective." Allen informed you, his face was tight and businesslike.

"My dad—" You tried to sit up but Alfred and Arin grabbed you.

"We called the hospital" She said and you saw her swollen eyes. How long were you passed out? "It's okay. They're handling the situation. Guards will be stationed in your father's room 24/7."

"How long since Jason escaped?"

She hesitated.

"How long?"

"Twenty-two hours."

"And we've _just_ been informed?" A lot could happen in twenty-two hours. Ravenhearst was only six hours away from Rosewater.

"The bombs destroyed half of the building, Jason knew what he was doing" Allen pinched the bridge of his nose "Dammit."

You forgot about Alfred until you felt him shift beneath you. You sat up immediately "Sorry"

He smiled sheepishly "Nah. I'm just confused."

"Of course you are. . .I'm sorry, Alfred. I didn't want to cancel tonight."

"Woah, no one is cancelling anything" Arin said with a passion "You're going on your date."

"Jason broke out of Ravenhearst and you want me to go on a date?"

"If you lock up in your room you'll be doing exactly what Jason wants, hiding and getting scared to live life."

You couldn't argue with that, but you didn't want to ruin Alfred's Saturday night anymore than you already had.

"I have a migraine, Arin, I don't think I'm in the mood to do anything but rest my head." You swung your legs and lost balance for a second. Thank God you weren't wearing heels. "I'm sorry, Alfred. I'll walk you to your car"

"No, I'm staying here." He rose to his feet "This concerns me too" He said firmly, but your heart melted at the softness of his eyes.

Arin gently nudged you with an elbow.

"You're right." You brushed back a lock of hair "I ruined your night, you deserve a proper explanation." Arin's fingers curled over yours.

"Jason was my boyfriend. He was my boyfriend throughout eighth grade and second year high school." You paused, the twins were stiffer than you. Alfred stayed quiet. You exhaled slowly. "He wanted me to kill my dad."


	12. My Damage

Jason was only nine when his stepdad first touched him. The fucker's fingers were thick and rough, once he was done he harshly whispered, "You little shit. If you tell anyone I'll bash your fucking head in, don't think I won't."

The fucker had always been abusive towards Jason and his mom, but when he told his mother she slapped him hard across the face, her hand left a nasty red mark and she made him skip school.

_Fucking bitch._

She loved the fucker, so in love that she romanticized the hitting and manipulation in her head. She was weak. Weak, weak, weak.

But Jason wasn't. He refused to silently wait for a miracle like his weak mother.

At twelve, Jason was already his stepdad's height and he hatched the perfect plan: he stuffed his pillows under his covers and hid inside the closet.

The fucker arrived a few minutes after midnight, and as he reached for the comforter, Jason charged at him. His stepdad was a broad man because of his work at construction sites, but he was too slow. The baseball bat hit his head before he could turn around. He fell to the bed with a groan. Jason hit him again, and he lost consciousness. Jason didn't stop. He aimed for the face again and again until the sheets were soiled and his bat was red.

He stared at the body, at the mess he made until his worthless mother ran inside and screamed.

Jason's first kill, and it made its way to the paper. "Poor woman and son abused, son saves the day" or some crap like that, and his mom bathed in the attention.

_Bitchbitchbitchbitch. Fucking bitch, I should've killed you too._

"Save"? Ha.

Jason was no savior, he didn't kill his stepfather to help his mother, Jason killed him because he wanted revenge. Plain and simple.

He hated the fucker. And he hated the whore that was his mother, who eventually found a new man. A quirky man whose name Jason forgot. The two married and Jason moved with them in a small brick house in Torrington.

"Welcome to Torrington. Where the sun always shines."

He wanted to barf.

His mom and his new stepdad were too busy ogling each other to ever pay attention to him, but he didn't care and spent most of his waking hours away from the house. Torrington was nowhere near the size of Brooklyn, but it did have its own set of fascinating characters.

He met their next-door neighbors, the Johnsons. On the outside they were the picture perfect white-collar American apple pie family, but definitely with their own dark secrets. (Alan Johnson Sr. was a pedophile, Annie Johnson was a cheating cougar, and Alan Johnson Jr. had been accused of rape twice)

He went to a café and met Lizzie Kirkland, a quirky and slightly creepy Englishwoman who wore pigtails and a poofy rose dress despite being well past the age where she could be considered a "girl". She was a teacher at Torrington High.

He found a tiny bookstore owned by Mrs. Maddie Dela Cruz, a sixty-year-old widow with an accent he couldn't name. She was close to senile, but at least she never asked questions, Jason doubted that she cared.

But as he scanned Maddie's collection for anything he might like, he heard sniffing from the other side of the giant shelf.

He peeked through the hollow spaces between the hardbound books and saw a girl sitting cross-legged on the floor. A copy of _Wuthering Heights_ in her hands.

She leaned towards the heavier side of the scale but Jason didn't give a damn. He paid more attention to those eyes, swollen and puffy from her tears. She was beautiful.

But then she closed the novel, kissed Maddie's cheek and left before Jason could introduce himself. He asked Maddie and she told him the girl was a regular customer, [Name] [Lastname]. He was certain that there was a [Lastname] family in the buttercream yellow house across the street.

Jason would watch her from afar, admire the crinkle of her nose and the twinkle in her smile as she read page after page, a new novel everyday. And when she wasn't with a book, he saw something that broke his heart. She was sad and lonely, he could feel it.

She needed someone. She needed _him_.

And he could no longer just stand from a distance. He needed her to be his.

*****

Jason kept his composure even when he worried that the ocean might take her away, but then she emerged from the sea and he let himself breathe.

He walked closer, spotted the fresh scars on her arms and thighs. A rush of emotions washed over his chest and filled his stomach. Anger, intrigue, sympathy. His mouth moved before he could think, and then he showed her his own self-inflicted damage. "If you want results, you cut vertically. Spills more blood, hard to stitch up."

He expected her to call him a freak and run away. It wouldn't be the first time. But she trailed the wound with her fingers, as if mesmerized. "I guess we're all a little damaged" And then she looked up and gave him a small smile. Jason's heart stopped. She was the stroke of the sun, the break of dawn after a long winter night. She was warm.

"Have you ever been to Pop's Diner?" She asked. "They say that the burgers are primo"

"I don't eat meat"

She laughed "Good. I was being polite, I don't eat meat either. Wanna come over for some milkshake?" She offered her hand and he loved the way it felt in his.

As they sipped homemade milkshakes on the front porch she told him about her good-for-nothing mother, her distant father, and her missing friends. She confessed that she was always alone and Jason was the only person she had in this town to share her troubles with.

He was her shoulder to lean on and it made him feel special. They grew close, became friends. But one day she asked if she could kiss him. She was flustered and adorable. Taking her in his arms, he happily reassured her that he'd been wanting to kiss her since day one.

They became a couple. He taught her baseball, she introduced him to her world of books.

"I feel less alone when I'm with them" She said, leading Jason inside the family library.

He grabbed her hand "You're not alone. I'm here."

"Yes, but for how long?" She rest her head on his chest "I don't know if you've noticed, but I have the tendency to drive people away"

"I'm not going anywhere. Your soul and mine are one and the same." He chuckled and kissed her surprised face "'I cannot live without my soul'"

She beamed "You read _Wuthering Heights_?"

He did. He wanted her to see that he did listen, and that he cared for her interests. And he didn't regret it. A love so strong it destroyed the lovers and the people around them. If it was for this girl, Jason would gladly be destroyed.

[Name] kissed him back, her tongue gnashed against his teeth until he parted his lips. His grasp on her waist tightened.

Everything else blurred until they were in her bed. He tugged off her pants and then her sweater, but her arms flew over herself.

"I'm sorry" She squeaked as tears pricked her eyes.

He pulled his hand away from her breast. "It's okay if you're not ready"

"It's not that" She shook her head "I'm not pretty."

Jason gently lowered himself closer to her face "You're right, you're not pretty." She looked away, he grabbed her chin. "You're damaged. And you're warm. And you're fucking beautiful. Not pretty. Pretty isn't enough to describe you, [Name]. Never be satisfied with just pretty."

She relaxed her arms and he worshipped every scar with his mouth.

"Jason" She curled up to him once they were finish "Thank you"

"For what?"

"For thinking of me like I'm a work of art"

"Don't thank me" He pushed back her hair so he could see those eyes again "You _are_ a work of art. And I'll kill anyone who says otherwise"

"So sweet" She giggled.

But he wasn't joking. Jason would set the world on fire if she asked him to.

[Name] stilled in his hold, her steady breaths saying that she'd fallen asleep, leaving Jason to his thoughts.

She loved him, but Mr. [Lastname] didn't bother to hide his disapproval of his little girl dating Jones.

Jason had asked [Name] to run away with him before, but she didn't say yes and pounced at him. She said she couldn't leave school, which made no sense to Jason because she didn't have friends there, and who _liked_ high school?

Then she mentioned her dad, _"I can't just abandon him. He's not the best father but. . ."_

If only he would disappear.

*****

Alfred unclasped his hands. [Name] stood before him with a guilt-ridden expression.

At her request the twins and servants left them to be alone, and she finally revealed the truth.

Jason didn't like her dad and the feelings were mutual, she didn't hate her father but they've lost touched and she'd grown to despise how he only started paying attention to her when she hang around Jason.

One night he caught Jason in her bedroom and they got into a big fight and Jason was kicked out of the house.

But Jason managed to sneak into through the balcony. He carried a bottle of sleeping pills and ordered her to put it in her father's tea. [Name] refused, but then Jason told her the pills were really laxatives.

A part of her was defiant and doubtful, but then he threatened to cut her throat if she didn't. He watched her with eagle eyes as she prepared the tea.

Once her father passed out on the couch Jason kissed her softly and asked her to start packing her things while he went to find a shovel.

When he was gone she locked herself in her room, shut the balcony doors, and called 911. Fifteen minutes later, her father was in an ambulance and two cops hauled a crazed Jason into the back of a police car as an inspector spoke with a shaken [Name].

"And you know what's fucked up?" She laughed dryly, "I think I'm still in love with him. It's stupid and crazy." She wiped her eye "But he called me beautiful. And he promised he'd protect me, that he won't leave me. Ha—how stupid is that?"

"Shit." She raked through her hair "You probably think I'm a hypocrite. Here I was trying to convince you to get therapy when I'm still a fucking mess"

Alfred said nothing.

"Go on. Call me out on my bullshit" Obviously she thought that he would call her a monster and run to the hills, but that wasn't it.

Alfred rose to his feet, then hugged her tightly "Oh, baby. . ." He whispered "Jason was a dick but he was right about one thing. You're beautiful. You're stronger than I am, you make an effort to let go and leave the past behind while I'm still denying myself help." He breathed in her rosy scent.

[Name] met his gaze "Alfred?"

"You said it yourself, we're all a little damaged" He was tempted to kiss her, but he wasn't about to take advantage of her like that. "I'll call Dr. Beilschmidt tomorrow"

"Your parents. . ."

He stared back at her, "I'll need to tell them, don't I?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Love, emiright? Crazy shit right there. Excuse me while I sing. . .And I'm craaaazy for yoooouuuuu. Touch me once and you'll know it's true~~ (Oh, by the way, Jason's lacto-vegetarian here and not vegan. That's why he gets to drink milkshakes.) But on a more serious note, I tried a different narrative technique and I don't blame you if you didn't follow the flow of the thoughts. 


	13. Killing Me Softly

A feeling of protectiveness overwhelmed Alfred after finding out the kind of personal storms that [Name] braved through, and how the storms returned in full force. She was strong, he had no doubts about that, but all it takes is one _very_ bad day to make a person collapse.

In the months they've known each other Alfred lost in her, in her wisecracks and quirks and heart-whipping giggles. And he found himself in her. He didn't have to always be Popular Alfred or Jock Alfred or Boy Next Door Alfred. She was okay with his fanboying over Superman and _Sleepaway Camp,_ she didn't shoot him down when said something smart about a movie instead of pretending to drool over the naked girl in the shower, and when he quoted Shakespeare she'd knock him off his legs with a hilarious reply instead of rolling her eyes. (How often is it for one to find a _likable_ person who can talk Shakespeare to them?) There was no hiding from her and she had unraveled him without the slightest effort.

But reality reared its ugly head towards her direction and snapped down on him with its powerful jaws finally opened his eyes.

Despite the smiles and laughter shared together, [Name] was no Claire Colburn and Alfred wasn't Drew Baylor. They were both humans. Both damaged.

But maybe he could be a little less damaged.

"You're sure you don't want me to go with you?" She shut the truck door for him.

Alfred shoved his key in the ignition "I need to do this alone." He wasn't prepared to face them, and had offered him the guest room, but it was only eight and his mom probably just got home from the diner.

Her fingers were on the window and he took them in his hand.

"I'll be fine. Will _you_ be okay?"

She gave him a strained smile "I don't want to skip school anymore than I already have so Eloise assigned me a bodyguard. He'll be arriving first thing tomorrow."

"You don't sound too pleased"

"It feels like I'm back in therapy again, with a warden trying to make sure I don't find a bobby pin and slit my wrists again."

He licked his lip. [Name] cleared her throat, "But I know better than to underestimate Jason. I'll be needing a bodyguard."

"I'll see you tomorrow then?"

She nodded and he gently pulled back. He was about to close the window when she suddenly reached inside and cupped his cheeks. She pressed her lips on his forehead. "Good luck"

He kissed the corner of her mouth, "Thanks, baby"

*****

The air shifted and you rubbed your palms together. Alfred could definitely handle himself in a fight, and Jason was after you, but even with that knowledge a sick feeling nested itself in your stomach as you watched the red truck slowly shrink away.

Geoffrey emerged from the front door and wrapped a flannel blanket over your shoulders "I prepared you a hot bath and hot chocolate. Shall we step inside now?"

You looked back at the empty road. You wished Alfred just stayed because you'd be up all night worrying.

You gripped on the blanket, "I'd like that. Thank you, Geoffrey"

As you sat in front of the living room fireplace, Arin and Allen watched your movements like hawks on their prey.

"Fuck." You sighed and threw them a glare, "I'm not going to burn myself so stop hovering"

"We're not hovering" Allen knelt down next to you.

"We're trying to be good friends by staying quiet and not asking questions" Arin snuggled to your side and you caught a whiff of her citrus perfume.

"Staying quiet and not asking questions about?"

"Everything" Allen snatched the mug from you and finished the rest of the hot chocolate.

You leaned on his shoulder and let sleep take over. Tonight your dreams were vivid, full of places that resembled both beaches and moors. Arms circled your waist from behind and when you spun around to face the stranger you saw Alfred. You wanted to hug him back but the skies turned black and when you blinked the side of his skull was dented.

You woke up with a gasp, finding yourself on the living room floor squeezed between Arin and Allen. No surprise, the servants had always left you three alone and never bothered to place you in your respective beds; not one of you enjoyed waking up where you didn't fell asleep.

Muriel appeared with three glasses lemon water "Good morning, Miss [Name]."

You untangled Allen's legs from yours and crawled up to the sofa. You gave Muriel a croaked "thanks" and gulped down the ice-cold water.

"What time is it?"

"It's only five a.m., Miss"

You eyed your phone on the coffee table. Hopefully, Alfred was all right.

"I can prepare breakfast early if you'd like." Muriel suggested.

"Yes, thank you, Muriel." You put down the glass and stretched your arms upward. You just had to wait for him at school.

The doorbell rang and you bounced off the couch "I'll get it!" You dashed to answer the door, "Al—oh." It was the bodyguard.

He stood well over six feet and wore a black trench coat. "Berwald" he introduced himself curtly.

He explained everything you needed to know, but the gist was that when you were in the house he needed to be updated of your location every hour and when you were outside he had to be there in case Jason decided to kidnap you. Which meant, of course, that he would be accompanying you to school.

The last thing you needed, the last thing you wanted was to have everybody's eyes trailing you. Arin and Allen were here but it was like walking the halls of Torrington again. Alan Johnson's voice echoed from the back of your head.

_"Lard-ass!"_

_"Bigfat!"_

_"FREAK!"_

You hunched your shoulders and hid behind your bangs, as though your hair would protect you.

Heather Bing sashayed towards you, Berwald tried to move in between you two but you waved him off. Heather only paid attention to special people, two kinds of people: the in-crowd and those so down on their luck that it was hard not to attract attention. You knew that you were the latter. But you were curious for what she had to say because nobody knew about Jason here.

Right?

"Hey, [Name]." She gave you a malicious smile "You lost some weight. Granted, it's not obvious considering, well. . ." She gestured at your muffin top, swelling from your the waist of your skinny jeans. A few bystanders snickered.

You lowered your gaze.

"So what's your secret?" Her voice chilled the blood in your veins "You been jogging or just barfing more?"

Arin barked from beside you "Piss off, Heather"

Heather ignored her "I'm kind of curious. Will your boobs stay that big even when you finally grow a neck?"

"At least they're real." Arin hissed, grabbed your hand, and then shoved past Heather.

"I saw you throw yourself at him outside the movie theatre" She hissed loudly.

"Come on" Allen gently led you away.

"Stay away from Alfred, you slutty freak!" She shouted and you flinched, not at freak but the adjective used. "Slutty"?

*****

The anvil on Alfred's chest dissolved and he felt like he was floating. His confession was messy, there was a lot of tears and hugs involved, but now the hardest part was over and he was free.

That morning his mom prepared him a light butter on toast breakfast and sent him off with a rain of kisses on his face. His father patted his back, and even Popcorn seemed to have sensed the atmosphere because he stood on the lawn and watched Alfred leave. He had stopped doing that since he turned six.

Alfred hummed "It's a Beautiful World" and when he entered the school gates his gait had an ebullient quality to it, like he was dancing.

Until Tori cut through his path wearing a look of disappointment. "Is it true?"

He blinked in surprise and straightened his spine "What?"

She sighed in relief, "I guess it's not."

Alfred cocked his head and Tori explained what happened.

The tide of protectiveness reeled back and Alfred scowled, "Oh hell no."

"I saw her enter Room 130. The bell still hasn't rung so you have time." She said.

Alfred nodded and then excused himself. _Dammit, Heather._ He stomped inside the main building, not giving a shit that everyone stared at him.

He was going to have to talk with Heather, but first he needed to fix this or [Name] would be forever remembered as a "desperate, lying attention whore" as Tori quoted.

Alfred strolled inside the classroom, earning instant silence from the students inside, and found a tall man standing near [Name]'s desk. The bodyguard, he assumed, and then approached her. She had noticed the sudden silence and she spun on her seat.

He caught her swollen eyes, but when he moved towards her the bodyguard told him to back off. [Name] said it was all right and like a robot, he obediently stepped aside.

"Good morning, baby." Alfred forced a big grin and then leaned over to kiss her on the same spot he did last night.

He heard a gasp somewhere in the room, and when he pulled back he was sure to grab [Name]'s wrist.

The bodyguard followed them outside, but he kept enough distance for Alfred to properly talk with [Name].

"Heather Bing—" She stuttered and he squeezed her affectionately.

"I know what she did, don't worry, I'll deal with her later. Ugh, I didn't think she'd tail me."

[Name] blinked "Tailed you?"

Alfred arched an eyebrow "Well, yeah. Remember when we were at the cinema? I left a party and basically dumped Heather. I'm guessing she followed me in her car and saw us together. She started this stupid rumor that you ambushed me and begged me to fuck you."

[Name]'s eyes widened with horror.

"I. . . I thought you already knew this."

"No, this morning Heather called me a slutty freak in the hall, but—"

"She did _what_?" Alfred growled, surprising both of them.

[Name] shook her head and rest her hand on his arm "I'm okay. It's okay."

"It's not okay. You've been crying." He touched her cheek.

"I have but I'm okay now, really. And Alfred?" Her sweet smile made its appearance and it warmed every inch of him "Thank you for worrying about me."

"You don't have to thank me for that" He said.

"What happened with your parents? Did you. . ."

"My dad called Dr. Beilschmidt. I'll be meeting with him this Saturday" He raised her chin "Will you go with me?"

Her face softened, "Of course."

*****

Alfred wanted to escort [Name] back to the estate, but he promised his parents that he'd head home straight after school, so with a goodbye kiss and a tight hug in the parking lot (and with Heather watching from her shiny new convertible), he left the campus.

It wasn't until he sat in traffic did he notice a piece of paper stuffed in the passenger seat. Alfred unfolded the note and read:

_"In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day—I am surrounded with her image!"_

If memory served, this was a line from Chapter 33 of _Wuthering Heights_ , spoken by a Heathcliff haunted by the memory of his Catherine.

Alfred flipped the paper.

_"I know that ghosts have wandered on earth. Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! Only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! It is unutterable! I cannot live without my life! I cannot live without my soul!"_

Chapter 16. Again, spoken by Heathcliff about the dead Catherine. What the hell?

The light turned green and Alfred hit the accelerator. However, the truck didn't budge. "What—"

_Screeeeeech!_


	14. Bitter Ghosts

That familiar sickening knot of unease twisted inside, starting from the moment Alfred kissed you goodbye and staying with you even now as you sat by your desk studying for AP biology.

_The cortex produces three hormones. Remember the three S's: salt – mineralocorticoids, sugar – glucocorticoids, and sex – androgens._

You tapped your highlighter on the blank page of your reviewer notebook, your eyes and brain had disconnected, the lectures you jotted down earlier made no sense to you now. Less because of disinterest but more of discomfort. Berwald was standing right behind you and Allen sat across you reading the last chapters of _War and Peace._ (Arin was watching basketball practice)

Why couldn't you let go of this suffocating feeling that constricted your throat?

The heavy legs of the library chair scraped the hardwood floor as you lugged it closer to the desk. You cranked your neck and dragged the neon highlighter over the soft page in an attempt to concentrate.

_The cortex produces hormones. . .salt. . .mineraloids. . .sugar. . .glucoticoids. . ._

You dropped the highlighter and rubbed your temples. This wasn't going to work.

"Take a break, you've been studying for forty minutes" Allen muttered, not looking your way.

You gazed over your phone seated next to your scientific calculator and pencil pouch.

Alfred was a grown-ass man, a freaking football player, he could very well handle himself in a fight and yet your pesky, inner Paranoid Penny wouldn't stop stirring the half-digested Twix you forced yourself to eat. (Since discovering Jason's escape you didn't have much of an appetite, but you weren't about to give your friends the incentive to suspect that you may be relapsing back to old habits) Fear was a natural response to finding out your ex had broken out of his asylum and was likely after your behind, but your concern wasn't for your physical wellbeing.

More than once have you compared Jason to your once-beloved Heathcliff, hopelessly devoted and ardently obsessed with nobody else but you. Brooding, dangerous, irresistible. But you were young and gullible. Not about comparing the two, but for romanticizing them into ideal lovers.

Jason's touch was heart-pounding, his attention constantly fought over, but he was no hero, much less someone young and naïve girls should admire.

He was a broken boy who needed compassion and proper health, not encouragement to pursue his violent desires.

He once ambushed an intoxicated Alan Johnson, and though he deserved retribution for being a big bully Jason had overdone it. Dislocated shoulders, multiple oblique fractures on all four limbs, and a barely recognizable face. Back then you felt pity for Alan who had lost the only thing that could give him a shot at college, but you were too beguiled and entranced by your black knight. Now you wanted to yell at your former self's foolishness; you should've realized at that point that Jason's actions were far from romantic. He was psychotic.

He would kill your father. He might attack Allen, or Arin. Hell, he might murder Alfred. He wouldn't take your life away, he would destroy it.

You sent Alfred a text ( _Hey. I just wanted to kno if you got home ok_ ) and then pocketed your phone. "I'm going to the bathroom"

Allen hummed in reply.

You flushed and then freshened up, Berwald waited outside. Alfred still hasn't texted you back. A wave of noxious thoughts flooded your brain as you walked back to the library, where your table was unoccupied.

"Hey" Allen emerged from behind the bookshelves "Sorry, I went to return my book." And instead of _War and Peace_ he sat with a copy of _Oblomov_.

"I swear, you eat books like your sister eats basketball players"

"I'm flattered that you noticed" He murmured, delving straight into his newest read and you tried to study again.

For two hours, you blankly skimmed through your notes. For the rest of the evening, Alfred had not contacted you.

Upon reaching the estate you told Berwald to wait for you in the dining room as you were just going to change into a more comfortable pair of pants. A few protests were uttered but you won in the end.

You shut your bedroom door close and dumped your backpack on a beanie bag. You headed for your closet but the flap of your sheer white curtains caught your attention. The balcony? You never left your room without locking it.

As you took reluctant outside, you noticed

It was your first copy of _Wuthering Heights_. The last time you saw this was—

With shaking hands, you grabbed the book and flipped through, the paper turned on their own as if they knew what to show you. You unfolded a corner of a specific page. Highlighted in pastel pink was the following line: "If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love you as much in eighty years as I could in a day."

The paperback crashed down on your feet.

Arms circled your waist from behind and a stubbly chin snuggled on your shoulder, causing you to shiver.

"Missed me, Ronnie?"

 


	15. Meant to be Mine

If there really was a hell in the afterlife then Jason would gladly go knowing that he had lived as the only man [Name] ever loved.

Because no matter what happened, he loved her.

He would lay down his life, slit his own wrists, cut his own throat, if she asked him. The world could drown in flames and he wouldn't care as long as she was happy and safe, because she was the only thing his eyes could see.

He lived for her smile and her touch and her love, and if he couldn't have her then he would rather be dead, because _she_ was his world and his everything.

Jason could never bring himself to hurt her, even when they hauled him into the police car and locked him up in that goddamned asylum he didn't blame her. She was afraid, he understood that, maybe he was a little rough but he would make it up to her somehow.

They'd ride drink cheap beer all night long, dance 'til dawn, and drive off into the sunset. Together.

That was what he thought. What he had hoped while stuck in Ravenhearst without receiving even a single fucking letter. He only had one valued possession while stuck in that ridiculous excuse for a hospital, and that was her favorite novel.

_Wuthering Heights._

But then he realized that he _was_ Heathcliff, broken and lost without his Catherine. And to be okay again he needed to be with her.

_"Because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that God or Satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will, did it. I have not broken your heart—you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. So much the worse for me that I am strong. Do I want to live? What kind of living will it be when you—oh, God! would you like to live with your soul in the grave?"_

He could not live without his soul. He needed to wake up, break free, find it. Get it back.

Wake up from this stale nightmare. Break out of this prison. Find her. And after that the only thing keeping him sane were those two words "Find her" which he repeated so often and so eagerly in his head that the phrase merged into a single sound constantly repeating like a mad parrot. Finderfinderfinderfinderfinderfinder.

He kept her book with him whenever he could, it was also his single belonging aside from the clothes on his back that he carried when he escaped.

The news reports were wrong; there was no bomb. Just three open gas stoves, courtesy of a horny, virgin (not anymore) nurse with a key, and a lit match.

Oops.

During the commotion many of the other criminally insane attempted to escape, Jason was one of the lucky few who managed to sneak inside a doctor's car and stab her throat with a pencil.

He drove west until he reached Rosewood, where he disposed the car and body by dumping it into the harbor.

There were going to be a lot of burned, unidentifiable corpses once the fire had been dealt with, giving him a few hours—maybe days. So Jason, using the doctor's money, bought decent clothes and created himself a new identity (just for now at least).

He stayed the night at a run-down lodge where he dyed his hair and tried on a pair of contact lenses. Until he found his girl and left this state he was to be Allen "AJ" Johnson, like J.D., in honor of [Name]'s beloved 80s movie. (She giggled every time he called her Ronnie.)

"AJ" rose early the next morning to find himself a ride back to Torrington—he didn't know where [Name] was but he needed a place to start. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be a single fucking bike in that entire town.

Until he spotted a Yamaha parked by a hospital.

It was when he started to hotwire the motorbike did he see her. She wore a ridiculous red wig and an equally ridiculous white-dotted red blouse, but he knew his Ronnie.

He wanted to approach her, but then he realized that she wasn't alone. Who was that douchebag with her?

A.J. waited for the two to come out of the hospital, when they did she was wearing his jacket.

That. Fucking. Cheating. _Bitch_.

 _No_ , he quickly corrected himself. _It's not her fault. It's this guy. He brainwashed her, he had to because Ronnie wouldn't forget about Jason. Ronnie loved Jason. Ronnie was_ made _for_ him _._

He glared at the blonde who looked at _his_ Ronnie with disturbing adoration.

 _You little shit, get your hands away from her. I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you. She's mine._ Mine.

And now he had her in his arms again. She was right here. They should be celebrating, yet why did she look so terrified?

*****

You turned and muttered in disbelief, "J-Jason"

He winked "Actually, the motel records in Rosewood know me as AJ, but hey, if you like Jason so much you can scream it"

You flinched and he scowled. You looked away and his hold tightened around you.

"Ronnie?"

You said nothing. This was too surreal. Maybe this was just a bad dream and you'll wake up when Berwald knocks on the door to check on you.

"It's okay, don't worry. I'm not mad. All is forgiven, baby girl." He leaned down to kiss you and you were too stunned to resist "Besides, I'm at fault too. I scared you, I'm sorry. I was just so mad at your dad" At the mention of your father his artificial blue eyes glinted like a knife.

Don't anger him, don't insult him. Say something! "You dyed your hair. . .and your eyes"

He grinned "Like it? Jason had red-brown hair and red-eyes, I needed to change into someone else fast, but the store ran out of brown contact lenses."

"Uh-huh. . ."

"Why do you look so upset?"

Shit. "I-I'm not upset, you just took me by surprise. How did you get in?" This house wasn't equipped with the latest security but its gates were difficult to climb.

"I told you, if it's you I'll find a way. Always." He said in response, like his "explanation" made the slightest sense.

"Right. . . I'm happy to hear that, Jaso—AJ"

He chuckled and your heart softened despite yourself. Denying the logical parts of you, a piece of your heart still missed him. Still loved him as the boy who gave you hope.

"My bike is waiting outside" He whispered to your ear, giving you goosebumps. "God, I missed you, Ronnie. It's taking every damn quarter of my self-control not to fuck you in this balcony right now"

 _Ba-dump_ went your heart.

Someone knocked at the door "Miss [Lastname]? You've been up here for some time now. Dinner is ready." Berwald.

"Ronnie. . ." Jason grasped your nape with one hand "Ronnie, let's run away together. What do you say?"

"I. . ." You put your hand on his chest. _Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

"Ronnie."

"The book. You highlighted the line—"

"I highlighted that line because it's true. That blonde homewrecker doesn't deserve you; he can't love you in a thousand years as much as I do in a day."

"Did you. . ." You swallowed hard, unable to finish the question in time as another set of knocks cut through the conversation. "Miss [Lastname]? Are you all right?"

Jason nibbled the skin on your neck, "I love you, [Name]." Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump. You didn't know if that was your heart or his.

The knocks grew frantic. You pictured Berwald already thinking to break down the door.

You grabbed his cheeks and pulled him in for a deep kiss, "Okay."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: "Bitch did WHAAAAAAT?" is probably your reaction. If yes then, "Yay me!" (Keep in mind that this isn't the last chapter so don't kill me just yet.) XD
> 
> "I was meant to be yours!/  
> We were meant to be one!/  
> I can't make this alone!/  
> Finish what we've begun!/  
> You were meant to be mine!/  
> I am all that you need!/  
> You carved open my heart!/  
> Can't just leave me to bleed!"
> 
> — JD, Heathers the Musical 


	16. I Will Fight For You

Jason smiled and thumbed you cheek "I knew you wouldn't abandon me."

The rapping had stopped and Berwald will be busting through any second now. You urged Jason towards the railing, "I need to get rid of my bodyguard first. I'll meet you at Blackwell Academy's back gate. At dawn."

He gave you a doubtful look. You knew why; last time he left you to do something you called the cops.

_Ba-dump. Ba-dump._

"No. Tomorrow go to school, ditch the bodyguard, I'll find you." And with a hastened kiss on your forehead he hopped off the balcony and to a tree, disappearing into the night.

The white double doors fell out their hinges and landed on the floor with a crash and a thud. Berwald held his Glock as he burst inside.

"Miss [Lastname]" He breathed, sharp eyes scanned the area "I heard voices"

You bent down to pick up the novel. "I was reading."

Muriel came running, Allen and Arin right behind her. "Alfred's parent's called, he—" Arin panted "He got into a car accident and. . .and. . ." She struggled to breath.

"His truck was there but they didn't find him. Alfred's missing." Allen finished.

You said nothing in return, you hugged the book to your chest and glanced out the balcony. The sky was cloudless, the moon glowed beautifully from where you stood.

_Alfred._

*****

Alfred wished he hadn't woken up because as he regained consciousness every muscle in his body swelled hotly and his head throbbed painfully, but he tried to sit up (arms and legs okay, spine in one piece) only to find that his wrists and feet were bound.

Once his vision cleared he examined of his surroundings. Peeling white paint, broken ceiling lamp, a wrought iron bed with torn a mattress. He lay on cold cement, arms roped to the metal bars of a window. He managed a crouching position—as far as the ropes and his burning legs would let him, it was an inky night but he didn't recognize the streets outside.

"Ah, finally awake" A guy with tousled black hair entered the room holding a baseball bat. "You got some balls trying to fuck somebody else's girl."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alfred barked but then his captor raised the bat and then swung it down on his ankles.

Alfred curled like a frightened centipede. A sound buzzed in his ears and he was shouting curses "What the fuck, dude!"

"You tried to take her away from me"

"Wha. . ." Then it clicked and Alfred stared up in disbelief "You're Jason."

He smirked "You've heard of me."

"Bits and pieces."

"Good things I hope."

Alfred mirrored his amused grin "Hardly. I hear you're one crazy son of a bitch."

Jason scowled. Another strike. Another cry.

"You. . ." Alfred struggled to speak, the aching spread from his legs and throughout his body "You put that note in my car"

"I think that should be obvious now."

"Do you seriously think that—ugh—" Alfred chuckled and then groaned, he wouldn't be able to walk for a while after this "Do you seriously think she still wants you?"

"Ronnie loves me" This guy was fifty shades of insane.

"You wanted to kill her dad. You threatened to kill her. Now you're gonna kill me, and for what? In the name of love?" This was stupid, slighting the guy with a baseball bat. "Christ, and you even compare yourself to Heathcliff. Did you even _read_ the book?" Heathcliff didn't get a happy ending. _No one_ did _._

Something in Jason's jaw ticked, "You're really starting to piss me off"

"Good. Because I already am." Alfred snapped "You say you love her, but do you have any idea what you put her through? You don't love her, asshole, to you she's just a thing you 'own' and you can't stand other people coming near what's yours, you don't see her as a person. You took advantage of her when she was vulnerable. You _abused_ her."

Jason's eyes flared and drew back his knee, kicking Alfred square in the jaw. "You motherfucker. You don't know anything so _shut up_. [Name] already agreed to run away with me, you see? We were made for each other, you were just a bump on the road.

Alfred glared back "I don't believe you."

Jason's smug smile returned "You don't have to. Now" He lifted the bat "Go back to sleep"

Alfred mumbled to himself.

"What did you say?"

"'Our love is God.'" Alfred's mouth curved in victory "I think that was Jason Dean's last words—spoiler alert by the way, but he and Veronica _don't_ end up together."

The bat hit Alfred's skull and he toppled to the floor, the lights vanished and the darkness wrapped around him.

*****

You grabbed the unopened bottle from the medicine cabinet, threw it in your backpack and then hurried to the garage.

"Hey, what took you so long?" Arin asked as you slid in the backseat of the Ferrari.

You put the back on your lap and folded both hands over it. "I had to pee" You whispered, but neither of the twins believed you.

Allen buckled up, "The police are already searching, [Name], don't worry."

"Tell that to Mr. and Mrs. Jones" You muttered, sneaking a peek of the black sedan behind Arin's car.

Jason will be waiting for you, but you had to make sure Berwald wouldn't try and intercept the meeting. Bodyguards had their own plans and you didn't want him screwing up yours.

"[Name]?" Allen called "You know, we can skip school today, if you're too—"

"I'm fine. Let's just go, please."

The twins exchanged looks. Arin started the car and turned on the radio.

You slumped in your seat and hoped Berwald wasn't immune to laxatives.


	17. This Ends with Us

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: This story was inspired by Heathers and Wuthering Heights!

You haven't seen Jason, but he won't approach you with Berwald around.

Slotting a coin into the vending machine you pray that Jason wouldn't suddenly back out his promise and then leave. The smell of coffee filled your nose as the machine pours you a fresh hot cup.

As you stirred the coffee you sneaked in two pills you've hidden in the sleeves of your sweater. Berwald stood a few feet behind you, completely unaware of what you're about to do.

You called his name.

"Yes?"

"You look tired. Have some coffee, my treat." You raised the paper cup towards him.

Berwald eyed the drink with a doubtful expression and for a second you feared that he might know the truth.

"Thank you" He pushed his glasses up his nose "but I don't drink coffee."

Who the hell doesn't drink coffee? You resisted clicking your tongue and tried again, joking and guilt-tripping him that you already paid for it.

He wouldn't budge. You didn't have a plan b.

You decided to get rid of the drugged coffee first, so you excused yourself to the first floor's ladies' room, already empty because there was only two minutes before the bell rings. You needed to evade Berwald before then lest Jason might start to think you abandoned him.

 _Dammit_ , you cursed inwardly, closing the door and walking to the marble sink. _I should've known better than to rely on one plan. Dammit._ As you poured the coffee in the drain, a ray of sunshine hit your eyes when you turned for the trash bin.

Bingo.

The uncovered window made up half the wall, kept shut with a rusting lock that could be easily snapped with a well-aimed kick.

You hurried to the door and squeaked shyly "Berwald?"

"Is everything all right?"

"Actually, no. My. . . Can you please get me a napkin from the dispenser in the second floor? The one in here is broken." You handed him a coin "And _it_ came earlier than usual."

Not even blushing, Berwald took it. "I'll be right back."

You gave him a grateful nod and when he was far enough you locked the door and ran.

You bent your knees, grabbed the window, and then pushed. Aside from a few halts due to the window never being opened before you managed to get it high enough for you to crawl out.

 _Sorry, Berwald._ You didn't look back as you climbed down from the first floor, you hopped off and you landed on the freshly trimmed grass with a not-so graceful _thump_.

"We're going to have to work on your agility, babe"

Jason stood over you wearing shades and a black hoodie, waiting for you with an outstretched hand. You took it with a smile and let him pull you up, "We don't have much time"

"Got it" He squeezed you "My bike is at the back gate"

"Wait" You rooted yourself in place.

"What is it?"

You hauled him towards you, "Do you love me Jason?" You stared past the black shades and straight into his blue-contact eyes.

He gasped softly against you, "More than my own life. . ."

"Then you'll do anything for me? Even murder in cold blood?" You tugged on his hair.

"Of course." There was no hesitation in his voice. You shuddered at his sincerity and straightforwardness.

"Tell me the truth then." You whispered, "Did you kill Alfred. . ." You paused and then added "for me?"

His lips quirked into a wicked grin. "Why don't I show you instead?" He led you to his bike, a shiny red Yamaha he proudly claimed to have hotwired within a few seconds.

You rolled your eyes playfully. Jason had always loved being different, it made him feel special; being different doesn't equate to special. But Jason _was_ special. He wasn't gold-tanned, combed-back like most high school boys in both Torrington and Blackwell, he was "throw anything on" and "middle finger to everyone". Most of all, he showed you kindness, and in his own twisted way, he loved you. And to violent extents.

When he came to your bedroom the first time, it was the night right after you first met. He climbed up the oak tree and into the balcony, just like how he did back in the Rosewater Estate.

You could still remember him that late August evening. A figure clad in dark everything—jeans, band t-shirt, boots—with burning red eyes that sent you shivering to the bone. He was a vampire and a werewolf, the black knight who came to rescue you from your demons. For a second you didn't recognize him as the boy who found you at the beach and saw your scars, he was this magnificent creature of the night, a handsome monster.

He moved away from the shine of the moon, a black angel descending from heaven. "Hey there, beautiful."

And in that moment, you were falling, falling too fast and too early and too hard for your liking. But you didn't care.

You were young and you were alone. He was a complete stranger, and yet he understood you, saw the "real" you: not lard-ass or Bigfat or chubby. He saw your scars and he called you beautiful, not "pretty" but beautiful.

_Damaged, but warm and beautiful. Fucking beautiful. Not pretty. Pretty isn't enough to describe you, [Name]. Never be satisfied with just pretty. Beautiful._

_He told me I'm beautiful._

After everything that has happened you knew for sure that you were Jason's gravity, the earth beneath his feet. He would set this entire town ablaze if you asked on a whim. A violent man with violent passions and pleasures. He would follow you anywhere, kill anyone for you. And the worst part was that, as much as his entire existence frightened you, you were excited, _ecstatic_ to have this beast choose you for its master and owner.

But then, what was it that Shakespeare said?

Oh. Right.

"These violent delights have violent ends."

*****

You arrived at the shady part of Blackwell and Jason led you to a two-storey motel with a fortysomething woman managing the reception desk. She didn't even spare either of you a glance, keeping her attention on a worn-out paperback of _Fifty Shades Darker_ when you walked in and Jason didn't pay attention to her as well. Clearly not the best lodge in town.

Jason thrust a key into an unmarked grey door at the end of the hall.

"You know" His fingers trapped your wrist but he didn't face you "You know that I'll lay down my life and future for yours, don't you?"

"I would never ask you to do that." You pressed yourself against his side "Now open the door and let me see."

The look in his eyes was tender, but he said nothing else and then pushed open the door. You went inside, a familiar rust-smelling odor hung in the air and, unable to stand it and the body by the shattered window, you bent over and a rush of vomit flew out your throat and hit the ratshit-infested floor.

Jason gathered and held your hair behind you, "You okay?"

You wiped your chin with the back of your hand and waved him off "How long has he been here?" You took reluctant steps towards Alfred. The glass shards had cut his skin and clothes, suggesting that Jason must've smashed him against the window.

"I dunno, less than forty-eight hours?" Jason replied uncaringly.

You knelt over Alfred and searched for a pulse. "Did you. . .feed him or give him water while he was here?" You picked up a rather large piece of glass.

"Why does it matter now?"

You slowly stood and then turned to Jason, fresh tears formed in the corner of your eyes, "I know you didn't like him, but he was my friend."

Jason's arms moved to circle your shoulders and you did nothing to resist him, you listened to his steady heartbeat.

 _"This heart beats for you."_ It was after you made love. He played with your wet locks and kissed you for the hundredth time, _"It's yours. If I can't belong to you then I'd rather not belong to anyone. Take good care of it, Veronica."_

"I'm sorry, baby" Jason's warmth enveloped you "But he was trying to take you away. He brainwashed you, he's not your friend. You'll get over it. I promise."

"Hm. . ." You buried your nose in his chest "I love you, Jason."

His arms loosened away from you "I love you, too"

You froze and then whipped your head up. He gave you a tired, defeated look.

Tears spilled like silent rain. Your fingers bled as his hand clamped over them and twisted the glass deeper into his stomach.

He stabbed himself before you could.

 _"Why?"_ The question came as a breath.

He shook his head, "Because even if you don't want me, I'll always belong to you."

You wanted to touch him, tell him that there had to be another way, but you caught your hand and pulled it to your chest.

His back hit the wall and he slid down, the blood was barely visible in his black t-shirt. Always with the black.

"Jason."

He offered a feeble smile "'I cannot live without my soul.'" And the light slowly disappeared from his eyes.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: (This is a little late but) Get it? Jason "J.D." and Veronica "Ronnie"? Don't worry if your real name is Veronica or Ronnie, I didn't outright say that Veronica/Ronnie was just a pet name—but Jason (2P!America) loves being the bad boy to the sweet Reader and so he constantly compares him and the Reader to J.D. and Veronica. I'm sorry, I've been so obsessed with Heathers, just freaking fixated. And you guys harassed me for not using Allen for 2P!America's human name. AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! (It's been a long day for me)
> 
> OH, AND DISCLAIMER: YOU'VE BEEN WARNED that this story was going to contain sensitive topics and issues. Suicide isn't something to take lightly of, but—and I can't emphasize this enough—this story was heavily influenced by Heathers and Wuthering Heights (what did you expect?). And for the record, I don't want you to think that if someone threatens suicide so you won't leave him/her that it is a "healthy and romantic" gesture. Boys and girls, that is a sign that that person is an ABUSER. JASON IS NOT A ROMANTIC HERO HERE FOR COMMITTING SUICIDE IN THE "NAME OF LOVE".


	18. Epilogue

You placed the rose on the coffin.

"[Name]" Allen whispered when you turned your back just when Father Pedro cleared his throat, but you raised a hand as a tired gesture of disinterest. This was the second funeral you've been to in the past five weeks, you weren't in the mood for the same "there's a reason for everything" speech twice.

Jason committed suicide before you could kill him. Merely two days after, Rosewood called and told you your father passed away in his sleep. Dad's wake was organized by Eloise herself; attended by faces you never recognized and of only half were there to chat with Eloise.

Both men you held dearly, both men now gone.

 _Because of me._ You shook your head and shoved the nasty words away. You weren't going through this again.

Your chunky heels tapped on the rocky pavement as you wandered aimlessly around the churchyard. Tall oak trees, wildflowers blooming, the dirt full of tombstones.

What were these people like when they were alive? So many stories, so many bodies. But how many had souls? Surely they weren't just "loving daughters" or "caring husband" or "good friends". They said never speak ill of the dead. To hell with that.

People just don't want to be judged for telling the truth.

You would rather have your former classmates share with the world about what they really thought about you: that you were a freak, a fatass, and a slut. It would be shades better than hear them spout out bullshit.

You stopped in front of an unmarked grave. How sad it must be. . . to die without being remembered.

Jason had a wake because of your insistence, paid with money from your bank account. It was a simple, somber funeral. You were the sole person there who actually cried for him, the twins went there with you and only for your sake. Arin was smart enough to keep her mouth shut but you knew how much she despised Jason, Allen on the other hand, he never showed anything he didn't want others to see, but you were aware that he didn't like Jason's company as much as the next person.

The air crackled and soft rain poured down. But you barely felt a drop.

You looked up.

Even with a shiner and a bruised lip Alfred still looked adorable. He held his jacket over your head, "I'm sure he's in a better place now."

Alfred had been in a four-day coma, brought upon by a massive concussion. He also suffered from a few fractures, (thankfully) all were mild and healed quickly, but other than that he was alive and well. When he opened his eyes his mother practically squeezed him with a tight bear hug.

"You didn't have to come." You muttered, but deep inside you were grateful that he did. _Girls_ , you thought to yourself, _So complicated._

"Of course I had to." He walked with you to his truck, now fixed and freshly painted.

". . .Thank you"

He smiled and opened the door for you "Madam"

You giggled and slid inside, "How was therapy?"

"Dr. Gil said that I've been doing great and honestly, I feel great." He took his seat next to you.

"I'm happy to hear that" You meant it, it had to be the best news that has come to you since Jason's death, but your tone was hushed and hesitant. You were close to crying again.

"It's all thanks to you, baby." Alfred leaned over to kiss your forehead.

You thumbed his cheek, careful not to rub the skin too hard. Alfred frowned. He knew exactly what you were thinking.

"You didn't do this to me, baby." He grabbed your hand and kissed the inside of your palm "Please stop blaming yourself."

"I know it's not my fault, but. . .I may not have been the bullet but I was the trigger—" Your voice cracked and Alfred, in one swift motion, pulled you over the armrest.

"Enough." He said sharply, his stare pierced right through you. "I love you too much to watch you burn yourself like this. Do you hear me, [Name]? Don't think you don't deserve love. I love you even if you don't, and it hurts me seeing you like this."

You gaped. He has never used the l word before, even when you came to visit after he recovered from his coma; there were hugs and kisses and tears but the word love was never brought up. Until now.

His gaze softened, "I love you, [Name] [Middlename] [Lastname]."

"I. . ." Tears swelled in your eyes "I love you, too, Alfred Fucking Jones." You wrapped your arms around him, but when you went for his mouth he instantly pulled away.

"What?"

"I'm not going to kiss you there. Not right now."

You quirked a brow.

"[Name], your father just died. Your first love just died." He explained, "I won't take advantage you like that"

"It's not taking advantage if I agree."

"No." He said plainly. You groaned and climbed off the armrest "You're too much of a boy scout."

He chuckled and started the engine "I'm being a gentleman"

"Gentlemen are boring, and being boring is a true failing in a man" You teased.

"That's a shame, madam" He reached inside the glove compartment and then waved two theatre tickets in front of you "I guess you're not interested in going to _Hamilton_ with this 'boring gentleman'?"

"Wha—" You snatched the paper from him "They were sold out!"

"I pulled a few strings, called my guy. I have a guy for this."

"You mean Allen?"

He shrugged "Tomato, toh-mah-toh" He then smirked "Tell me, am I still boring, Miss [Lastname]?"

"Seems like I stand corrected. You've proven me wrong, Mr. Jones" You laughed and slipped your fingers into his. "You're beautiful."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thank you so much for reading everyone! I really enjoyed writing this story and if you have the time please check out Heathers (both the movie and the musical) and Wuthering Heights (the novel and whichever of the adaptions), or if you're interested, do take a look of my other Hetalia x Reader books.


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